In the middle of an extended diatribe against artificial turf, Xan opens the door to Schuester Hall, which is... not the door to Schuester Hall.
Xan peers at it. "Are we being pranked or something? Has someone not been informed that I piss napalm?"
"You bleed napalm," notes Leo. "If you were pissing it we'd have a medical issue on our hands. Somebody could've thrown up an illusion, but I don't really see the point of replacing Schuester with... a bar? With some chick inside? Like, what, we're going to whip out our fake IDs and get in trouble? But Mom always says that if you can't see the point of a trap then whoever set it is smarter than you are. Let's go down the hall and take the south door."
"Jesus Christ," Xan mutters, hauling Leo in by the arm. "Let's avoid the cool-as-shit magic bar, he says. You're such a fucking girl."
Leo makes a noise of protest. "I'm working on that! And I object to your manhandling!"
They behold the bar. It's a very nice bar. It has a window to some exploding stars. "Huh. I'm... pretty sure that's magic of some kind," notes Leo.
"So am I, dipshit, we're both wizards."
"Just making conversation."
Leo whips his arm lightly with a strand of shadow. "Bad boy. Heel."
"[Call me when you start kissing, this bar does not have any yaoi manga and I need my fix.]" She picks up another brownie and devoured it, not caring about the cavities that she was probably creating. "Okay yeah, I want this. They not care about my past right?"
"[Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint]," Xan demurs. He catches Leo's mouth and kisses him soundly.
Leo has trouble objecting to this! Eventually, however, he breaks away. "Weird Japanese innuendo aside, we have an immigration nightmare to take care of, yeah? Whateley won't care about your past. They'll probably make you a whole new identity."
Damara gives the kissing boys an appropriately objectifying stare. "I probably can keep my name since you in other world," she says once the kiss breaks. "Alright good then, I can just pretend my worlds Damara is dead. Now lets give your world a Damara, all worlds should have at least one."
Certainly, napkins a napkin. First one's free.
Xan blinks slowly. "In that case, make them really good liquor, okay? And some weed if you've got some, it's been a while since the last care package from Leo's mom."
The requested products appear. Xan slips them into some cunningly hidden pockets designed for exactly this purpose. "Alright, now we can go."
Damara stuffs her mouth with pastries and then nods. The logistics of chewing and swallowing a mouth full of sweets occupies her as she follows the two boys out of the bar. She makes sure her knitting needles are still in her pocket, worst comes to worst she will deal with this new school the way she dealt with her old one. She thanks the bar in her own special way before closing the door behind them, a middle finger and a smile.
Outside the door, there's a stern middle-aged woman in a pantsuit. Her eyes are solid gold, and she looks distinctly irritated.
"Mister Richardson. Mister Santacruz. Miss Megido. What the fuck do you think you're doing and nice to meet you, respectively."
"[Nice to meet you too, old lady. Who the fuck are you and why do you know my name?]" Damara says in the sweetest possible tone of voice while picking the rudest possible vocabulary. Damara is a girl of many smiles, for once she does not choose the one that makes her look like she has just kicked a puppy.
"I the fuck am Thoth, former A-List superheroine, but you can call me Professor Wahlberg. I'll excuse the profanity because you obviously didn't expect me to speak Japanese. For reference, a solid 30% of the people on this campus can be assumed to know any language they've ever had a passing interest in. I personally am fluent in every language used by more than fifty humans on this planet, but I'm something of an outlier. And I know your name because I can see the future, and I see myself muttering it under my breath every time I find some jackass shoved halfway down a flagpole for the next four years. Congratulations on retroactively making an impression."
Damara laughs, "I take back nothing I say and they probably will deserve it, don't worry old lady. Just be glad it not worse" She likes this woman and this school. The fact that people are more likely to understand her japanese bullshit will do nothing to change the way she acts here.
"Very true on all counts. Anyway, that dimensional portal dealie isn't coming back any time soon, so I have the... privilege... of getting an eighteen-year-old girl matriculated into my school halfway through the term. Despite the fact that you're not even a mutant and your magic is like nothing we have in this universe. Sure do love my job."
"Wait, she's not a mutant?"
"Of course she's not a mutant, you little twit, she's from another universe, they don't even have the meta-gene complex there. The grown-ups are talking, get to your class. And Richardson, hide your damn flasks better, I don't even need to turn on my clairvoyance to see those things."
"I have no real idea what I am or what meta-gene is, I just do time shit," Damara says. She fidgets with a lighter in her pocket. "There any way I can make you think I need blunt for medical reason?" She's a bit nervous despite her demeanor and she really wants something to smoke.
"You're not my student yet, feel free. Tell me about the kind of time shit you can do."
She takes the one not-bar-provided blunt she has been saving and lights it. "I can touch things and make them old really," she explains, visibly calming down from the mere action of smoking. "It easy with dead things but with live things I can't age them. I just slow them down. I traveled before but it require timing something." She takes out a small music player she had tied around her neck and opens it. A gentle tune starts playing and a second Damara is now standing behind the teacher, her music player is almost done with its song. "I go back and front as long as this plays." The initial Damara does the time jump required to make this loop work. "That about it, I can go further but I only done it once... I really pissed that day." She leans against the wall, trying to pass of magic induced fatigue by slouching rebelliously and blowing out a cloud of smoke.
Johanna nods. "I'd classify that as... Warp 4t;b, if I had to make a guess. Which I do. Any other abilities?"
"I good with needles and can eat lots of sweets without stopping," she offers. "Also I do this." She blows out a near perfect smoke ring. She had a lot of time to figure out how to do that.
"Impressive. What exactly can you do with needles?"
"Knit a scarf, what else could I possibly do with needles and with someones neck," she says with an innocent smile. "I can make small magic go through yarn too but that about it."
"I'd recommend that you go for the crotch or gut while you're here. Still incapacitating, hurts a hell of a lot worse, but it isn't immediately fatal, and we've got healers for that. What kind of small magic?"
"Like my normal time spell but not as strong and a little energy spell. It weak, like sticking fork into outlet."
"Hm. So, maybe PK 1a. I'd like to see if you could learn to do that without the needles; you don't necessarily follow our rules, but it still sounds like a crutch. And you'll probably spend some time trying to strengthen the effect. At any rate, that's a starting classification, and I'll let the lab techs at you next week or so. Now, for less nerdy chores. I can get you a full scholarship and a legal identity on the basis of your 'traumatic manifestation', so that shouldn't be a problem. You might have to take on a part-time job for the scholarship's sake unless you're comfortable mooching off Mr. Santacruz. Which you may be, I suppose. And you'll have to determine where you want to live. Of the cottages, the ones that you could fit into without irritating maneuvering would be Dickinson and Poe, which serve as the non-monstrous women's dorm and the queers' dorm, respectively. Richardson and Santacruz live in the latter, if that's a factor."
Damara shrugs, "I guess dorm with those boys work, they cute enough. I guess I can do job but my English reading kind of shit so if you want me to be secretary find someone who like my skirt. Anything to worry about when your lab boys probe me? Will I need to bring lube?"