Lost in a cafe?! [Open]

A dark figure loomed over the entrance to the cafe. After a moment's hesitation, the figure walked into the said cafe, taking careful and silent steps. Upon going inside, it was clear that the figure was none other then a girl; or, to be more precise, the new student Gen. She had her usual attire, a black short-sleeved hoodie and a white shirt, dark pants and sneakers. She had her mirrored glasses on, too; she wore it to unfamiliar places, mainly so that people don't start freaking out or ask the same dull questions about her eyes.

Finding an empty table nearby, she sat down, her mostly-black hair swaying as she bowed her head to look at the piece of paper in her hand. After reading the words on the paper for the upteenth time, she turned her attention instead to her surroundings; this seemed to be a cafe, more or less. Well, might as well order something while she was here. As if the waitors here were a mind reader, one of them popped up nearby; his handsome features looked well with the cafe uniform he had on, and for a moment Gen forgot the worry she had. Her lips curled to a smile as she spoke.

"Can I get a glass of lemonade and some cookies please?" The waitor answered a reply with a bright tone, and went away to pass on her order. As he did so, the smile on Gen's face diminished, remembering her current situation. With a soft sigh, she tried to relax and convince herself it was inevitable that she got lost in this new environment and missed her very first class in the academy. When that didn't work though, she tried a different approach; taking a deep breath, she half-closed her eyes and listened. To others, it would look like she was staring down at the table or perhaps as if she was nodding off while sitting

Every corner of the world had traces of those who has passed away. These spirits tend to linger in the world for a while before eventually drifting off to wherever they are supposed to go after their lives are over. Some sticks to the places they died in, but in most cases the spirits will wander around the memorable places of their lifetime. While it wasn't possible for people to interact with these spirits, Gen was one of the very few who can. Well, it wasn't exactly an interaction in her case yet, as she has only managed to listen rather than communicate so far.

The cafe was quite peaceful and silent, mainly due to having little to no customers around. The silence was soon dispelled in Gen's ears, a new noise coming into her hearing range; at first, it was just incoherent mumblings. As she focused more, these mumblings became short words and sentences. They still didn't make much sense most of the time to Gen; she was still inexperienced, and in building like these, it was usually the human spirit which lingers; the human spirit has the tendency to be secretive to strangers, making it harder to understand. In any case, the few wisps of words that she caught were often the names of the cafe's menu; different kinds of coffees and cakes, cookies and meals. Some of them whispered names that were not on the list, which Gen assumed were past orders which are now no longer made. They sure weren't exciting whispers, but even so, Gen enjoyed hearing them; it was like a code that the spirits were trying to hide, or something.

Santana walked into the cafe, she had on a dark green hoodie with the hood up to hide her scar and bruises. She had her head down, she was also wearing a pair of jean capris. She looked around and saw a girl sitting at a table with her head down. She seemed to be doing the same thing as Santana, hiding. Santana walked over and sat across from the girl. "Hey," she said softly. She knew that this girl would probably see her scar and think her a fighter. She knew her face looked bad but she didnt care. There was one thing that kinda made her uncomfortable in this place, the school bit, she had always ditched back home and couldnt ditch here.

Hearing the spirits isn't like those supernatural powers you hear where you can see or feel someone's emotions, nor is it like mind-reading; it was more like hearing a person who wasn't there, mumbling about things to themself, only instead of their mouth making the sound, it was more like their mind. Maybe it was because Gen was still new to this, but she couldn't hear the deep, dark secrets one holds in their heart without their consent. Hearing the whispers of the soul inside a living person also applied here; this was why she jumped in fright at the sudden female voice. She composed herself as soon as she realized what had happened, standing and bowing a little apologetically.

"Sorry, I didn't notice you there," she said, then stopped, finally got a good look at the stranger's facial features. The scar, and the fact that her eyes looked... intense, to say the least, intimidated Gen a little; was this girl fed up from her unresponsiveness until now or something?!

"E-er... Would you like to sit with me?" she gaped a little, then said the first thing that came up in mind to which she regretted as soon as she said it. Well, what's said was said. After a moment of hesitation and a failed attempt to avoid looking too intensely at the girl's scar, she added softly.

"I'm called Gen; I'm new here and sorry for the ruckus... again."

Santana startled a little when the other girl jumped. When the girl looked at her she saw the girl was wearing sunglasses. When the girl asked Santana if she wanted to sit Santana smiled softly. "Sure." she said softly. She then sat down. Then the girl introduced herself as Gen. Even though the girl had sunglasses Santana could feel eyes on her scar. "I'm Santana" she said. Then she looked around. "Nice place" she said, more to herself. She turned around, hitting a bruise on her arm as she did so. Santana winced in pain. That had been a… parting gift from her mom so it was relatively new. Santana rubbed her arm gently trying not to put to much pressure on her bruises. She knew that if she ever wore a t-shirt that she would attach more stares because of her colorful arms. She looked down as a waiter came with some food for Gen. Before he left she raised her head and asked for a soda and a brownie. She looked back at Gen, "So, where are you from?" she asked.

Santana... Gen liked that name; it wasn't a simple, common name you hear everyday, nor was it ridiculous. What kind of meaning is behind her name, I wonder, she thought as the girl sat down. Well, at least Santana seemed to be pleased about being offered a seat.

When Santana commented about the place, Gen smiled in agreement at her; that was why she caught the girl wincing. Did she sat on something? her question was soon answered when the girl placed a hand on her arm; she must've had a bad arm or something. Forgetting that her mirrored shades were on, she turned away, a form of respect of her own; she knew how intimidating-looking people hated showing a weak side to others. Just in time, the waitor brought her order! It was enough to fill the awkward I'm-not-looking-at-you-so-don't-get-upset moment that she was placing upon herself. Likewise, Santana seemed to have recovered enough to place an order and ask a simple, yet complex question at her. Sipping the lemonade, she replied.

"I'm not quite sure myself; I've been living with my distant aunt when my parents died. I never really cared much for where I am, but rather on what I can hear... How about you?"

Santana was grateful when Gen looked away from her. She hated showing weakness. She listened as Gen said she didnt really know where she was from. Santana felt sorry for her loss. "Aw. I'm sorry about your parents. I'm from New York. Not the busy nice place everyone associates New York with but a run down old neighborhood. The type where all the cops look to firs whenever there's a crime." she said. Like abuse she thought to herself. She grimaced weakly thinking of her home. "Trust me when I say that the cops blame everything on the kids of my neighborhood. Even if they are guilty." she said. Once again she thought of the time she defend herself and got sent to juvie or when she was beat infront of a cop then told to be good. She look down. She was grateful that Gen hadn't mentioned her scar. Most people asked about it then hen she said it was a knife scar, they ran away before she could say that she was attacked. She was often stereotyped as a 'hood. Like the kids who are drunk all the time and always smoke. She was a tough hood but she didn't drink or smoke. She saw what it did to you. She was living proof that nothing good came from drinking. She lived with two examples. She saw what it did to people so she stayed away from the drinks.

Now it was Gen's turn to listen. Unlike the first impression of the girl, Gen began to feel less intimidated by her, and slight understanding grew inside her; who wouldn't turn scary and hostile if you were always framed and beaten from an early age? The way she spoke also hinted that she hadn't had anyone to rely on; if the cops were framing them, then no one in their right mind would attempt to prove justice at the chance of them being framed also.

Taking a bite of her cookie, she tried to imagine what it'd be like to live in a run-down neighbourhood, constantly targetted to be a scapegoat. Would she have been able to survive even for one day? Most likely not.

Perhaps because she had an ear listening to Santana while thinking about this, Gen was able to catch a faint whisper before it ceased to be of hearing range. It was something only Gen could hear thanks to her powers; a whisper from a soul, mumbling to itself something which it wants to tell everyone, but not being able to for whatever reason.

"...Never drank...?" She mumbled out loud without noticing at first, but it only took a moment before she realized what just happeneded; the context didn't fit into what Santana was talking about. She sent a soft smile at Santana, hoping that she didn't hear what she just said.

Santana looked at Gen. She heard her say something. "I sorry, I didn't hear what you said." she said. She heard her whisper something. She looked down and pushed her hair out of her face. She looked up again as the waiter brought her order. Nodding a thanks she took a drink of her soda. She never really talked to people much. Except her brother. She wondered how he was doing. She looked back at Gen. She wondered what the girls story was. It wasn't her place to ask though. She looked around again.

((sorry my muse is like extremely dead))

So she didnt hear her - that was a relief. Gen shook her head to say nothing. Well, that kinda made an awkward silence...

Not knowing what to do, she sipped at her drink while listening; hopefully Santana would have something to say...

As if to fill up the silence, her power gave her another chance. Her story.

My story? Gen repeated in her mind. Well, story, huh. Probably why she was here despite her lessons?

"...Well, er, do you know your way around here?" she started off rather poorly, but she continued nonetheless
.
"To be honest, I'm currently lost. I can't find my class, but since it's been a while, I bet that's finished already... so, um, I was wondering if you could tell me where the dorms are - I've yet to check where I'm to live from now on."

Santana thought for a moment about the dorms. "The dorms are in the building across campus the dorm listings are right inside the door." she said. She looked around. "I should probably go talk to some administrator or something. They've probably seen my grades from the last school meaning I have some explanning to do" shr said. Getting up. "Nice meeting you," she said them she walked away.