Marley feels as though this is the point where he should carry his own bags in, but he really doesn't want to walk in there alone. He's already having trouble circulating air in and out of his lungs, being finally alone with his thoughts is not something he's looking forward to. He's planning on stalling that as long as possible.

So he walks alongside the driver man up the sidewalk and through the front entrance of the building, which is looming over him almost menacingly. He can tell, right now, he's not going to like this place one bit.

It's a good thing he's always been excellent at good behavior. Let's hope he's out of here in no time.

There's a woman waiting for them as soon as they enter the building. She's standing in the middle of a lobby-type-area. He doesn't know if it could be described as a lobby, though, because usually lobbies are at least a little homey and comforting. This, though? It's almost office-esque. Mostly grays and blacks and neutral colors in general. Not appealing to the eye in any way, and about the size of Marley's bedroom.

The woman doesn't look happy. She looks as though she prays for death hourly. Her eyes are practically begging for someone to put her out of her misery. Which says a lot, because almost always people try to at least feign happiness in front of Marley. Like one little thing will result in him disliking them or banishing them out of the Westhem.

"Hello, Welcome to 1-A Institution for Abnormal Persons." She greets. It doesn't have all that much emotion in it and he can tell it's rehearsed.

Okay, so he doesn't want to say he was expecting special treatment, but he's used to people trying to either please him or just being generally scared of him. He's become accustomed to being made to feel like an outcast, like he's above everyone else. Different.

This lady, though? He may as well be just another resident of 1-A.

"Lola Stengel is going to assist you in getting accustomed. She should be here in a few minutes. You may sit down until then–she will also give you your room number, where he can put the bags."

Marley nods, not knowing what else to do. He's kind of trying to figure out if he misheard her on the whole sit down until then thing. He's not used to waiting. He doesn't like to wait, as it usually ends with him overthinking it painfully until he's freaking out about all outcomes and on the verge of an anxiety attack.

Now he has to wait. For a girl he doesn't know. To show him around this prison. Dear Christ, it's like some higher power out there really enjoys to drag on the shitty situations.

Marley doesn't like to sit down. His father always told him it was unprofessional. This is why he just stands there with the driver–who is looking more uncomfortable by the minute–and waits for... dammit, what was her name?

It's started with an S. Or at least, one of her names did. Shit, he really hopes she doesn't get offended. Being polite is about his only talent. Without that he's just a rude, average child with a massive bank account and important parents.

It doesn't take too long before a girl is hurrying into the room from a door he didn't notice. She has a few papers with her and a demeanor only slightly on edge.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, I... um... this was such short notice and I thought you were coming tomorrow. I... I think our printer ran out of ink." The first thing he notices is her unnaturally red hair, then her quiet voice that he's surprised he could even understand.

He can tell she's nervous, though. Okay. Marley's still a prince. This is definitely how he's used to being treated.

She's looking through the papers. Marley feels awkward. Is he supposed to help somehow? He thinks he should. He has a feeling that he would only make it worse if he offered, though.

Eventually, the girl seems to get it together and looks up to him with a nervous yet determined smile. "Alright, your room is 3-17..." she begins. Quietly. Again. As soon as those words leave her mouth, the driver is walking off to go find it. He probably wants out of here as much as Marley. Understandable.

"Okay, uh, follow me. I'll show y-you around and all that... if you want."

Marley purses his lips into a polite smile and nods, ignoring the shaking of his hands because, dear god, is she... abnormal? Does she work here or is she a resident? Is he really talking to someone with abilities?

Okay, so apparently he has them too. Still, he's never met another. He's heard about them, yes. Mostly bad things, although he has a sneaking suspicion that's probably due to his father.

The girl has tuned back around and is currently heading towards the door she came from. They're actually double doors, grey with little square windows that are eye level. Marley feels like he's walking to his death.

They make their way down a hallway. It has doorways and such, and when Marley looks into them they look like other seating areas. He also sees a few rooms that seem to be offices. He decides this is probably the adult tower.

She confirms it by saying, "This is where a lot of administration and the higher-ups of 1-A work. The other employees use this area as well, but not as much." Marley hurries to catch up with her, so that they're walking next to each other. She discreetly looks at him and then back forward again. The shake in her quiet voice lets him know how nervous she is.

Marley is pretty sure he saw multiple buildings when they pulled up here, so he's not surprised when they round a corner and reach another double doors. Then they're entering onto a cracked, yellowed sidewalk with grass and weeds growing through it. Marley's eyes adjust to the sunlight, head aching a bit, and he starts to take in the dark sky and intimidating buildings that he can only see by the lights coming from the rooms inside, and the few lamps around the large area they're in.

The buildings look just like the one he just came from. In fact, all the structures look the same. The only distinguishing characteristic between them is their height and condition.

"This is the courtyard," the girl says. Sure enough, dead in the middle of the buildings is an area with more concrete than shrubbery. There are quite a few people lounging about. Marley takes note of the fact that none of them look above the age of 40.

"Over there," she points to some buildings that he notices look distinctly nicer and better kept than the others, "are the rooms that we have group meetings. It's also where the administrators like to have one on one time with us to... better understand our conditions." He wonders what all she means by that, if the rumors are true about this place, but she moves on and points to buildings that look like they knew the dinosaurs personally.

"As for living, you're going to be a part of the 15-25 group. With me. We have our own building, and most of us stay in there. It's got all of our rooms. I'll only show you the other residency buildings if you really want me to, but you shouldn't have a reason to go to any of them."

Marley contemplates taking her up on that, because getting a personal tour is a lot better than anything they have in store for him here and he'd like to stall his torture the longest he can. He begrudgingly decides against it, however, as he doesn't want to burden the poor girl. At least, not more than he already is.

Right then, they reach the building of his age group... he assumes. It has a yellow label by the door that say 15-25 residencies and there's a kid lounging outside that's looking at Marley-

Wait, no. No the kid is glaring. Glaring at Marley. He looks Marley's age, maybe younger. The prince averts his eyes.

He notices the obvious lack of security. There's not even a lock or anything. The guide pushes it open without a problem, and Marley is met by the bland sight of a desk, some uncomfortable looking chairs, and a separate door with a picture of stairs beside it.

The girl greets a guy sitting behind the counter that looks about middle aged. The guy doesn't greet her back, but she doesn't seem too bothered. He can't seem to look away from Marley. Don't get him wrong, Marley's used to it. Far more accustomed than he wants to be. He just will never, ever, enjoy all the staring. He has never and will never like everything he does being under a microscope.

Marley notices that the people here don't seem too happy. He hasn't seen a single smile, unless it was from the girl showing him around. Even then, it wasn't too genuine. He hasn't seen any violence, though. The thought reassures him.

Right then, as the girl leads him towards the stairway door, the lights go out.

Startled, Marley stumbles a bit. The guide pretends not to notice as she reaches into her pocket for something, without even the slightest bit of hesitation.

Marley is surprised when she doesn't even bat an eyelash. She just takes a phone out –wait, they can have phones here? He expected his to be taken away–and slides up the bottom to turn the flashlight on. Her steps don't even stagger, unlike him.

What? Is this normal?

He hurries to catch up with her, he's also about 90% sure she's walking faster now.

"What wrong with the power?" He asks, confused and curious.

The girl sighs, gives him a side glance, then clutches the papers to her chest and responds quietly;

"I don't know–probably Nero."

He blinks. What's a Nero? Is that some kind of computer virus? Can the power even get viruses? He doesn't know, he's not good with technology.

He's even more confused than he was before, but the girl doesn't seem too concerned with his cluelessness as she hurries up the stairs until they're walking on a floor that he's pretty sure is the third.

They make their way down a dark hallway, then around a corner, and he thinks they're going to go down this one too but then some dude with half of his hair shaved off–or at least, it was. It's kind of growing back now–is hurrying out a door.

His eyes immediately lock onto the girl and he hurries towards them. Marley also takes note of the many people surrounding the outside of the door.

"Lola! Go find Mr. Brazzo, Nero's pissed."

Okay. Nero is a person. Marley would have never guessed that, it's just an unusual name.

"Why?" The girl–Lola!–questions, looking increasingly panicked. He didn't notice how much her expression had changed, as it was previously a lot calmer than it looks now. Her voice is beyond concerned and Marley notices her leaning slightly towards the boy.

"I don't know, they were in his room and some dude came in with some bags and put them in the empty bed and Nero started questioning him and I don't know the rest, that's just what Lenny told me."

Then the boy's eyes trail over to land on Marley.

He blinks, and his eyes glimmer as something dawns on him. The guy isn't looking away, and Marley's used to staring, but not to it being so blatant.

"So what's he doing now?" Lola asks.

Marley notices that this guy doesn't seem to care how quietly Lola is speaking. If Marley's being honest, it's really starting to irk him. Constantly straining his ears is exhausting, especially when it's pointless.

"I don't know," the boy responds honestly, "last I checked someone tried to spray him and got electrocuted."

Marley's eyes widen, gulping as his heart speeds up. What? Electrocuted?!

Lola seems to just brush it off, as if electrocution isn't anything crazy. Marley is so confused and maybe even scared, he doesn't know what to do. He's sure the bags this boy is talking about are his bags and if there's one thing he doesn't want to do, it's room with some lunatic that electrocutes people.

"It makes sense now, though," the boy says, "he has to room with a Nocona."

He basically voices what Marley had just been thinking.

Right then, what Marley immediately recognizes as one of his bags bursts through the doorway that the boy had left open. Then his other one.

"We need to get this fixed," the boy says, "or Nero's gonna black out the whole place and probably murder someone."

Lola shakes her head immediately, "You know administration won't change it without a fight, Bren."

Bren, apparently, seems to understand this, as he rests his head in his hand and starts rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger. He looks stressed, and Marley wants to help the situation, but he doesn't know how.

He's also confused, with the whole electricity thing to the administration thing to really everything about this. He doesn't know if he should ask.

"We need to get Brazzo, he's the only one that will know what to do in this situation." Bren concludes, and starts walking down the hallway.

Lola sighs and turns to catch up with him. Marley kind of wants to get his bags and make sure everything in them is alright, but decides he's not in the mood to risk his safety.

So he follows them, a sinking feeling in his gut.