"I got the gist of it already. Dystopia novel, probably gonna die, safety in numbers, gangs called enclaves. Lucky me I was just this side of running away from home, so I'm not in my PJs."

"Yeah, she was unlucky. Uh, the enclaves aren't gangs exactly, in the sense you mean it, they're more like...aristocracy. A gang has power from what the members put in, and that's basically what a strong indie alliance is, but enclaves are rich on the outside and they can afford to send their kids in with more stuff."

"I guess. I mean, the seegees are only as do-not-fuck-with as they are because- Well, whatever. If the first girl wasn't lying about everything I'm lucky I'm here instead of eaten by monster rats. Mals."

"The first girl?"

"Yeah, what was it, Annie, explained the basics when I asked and accordingly now I figure I owe her a small little favor."

"Makes sense. I'll give you a more detailed explanation in exchange for some of your hair, Mum bribed several years of graduating seniors for survival tips and wizard hair's a useful artificing material."

"-Ah damn, there's a weight limit isn't there? Or someone'd come in with whole crates of junk and that doesn't seem to be how people are talking. Uh. Honestly I kind of figure I can pick things up as I go and if I'm gonna lose useful materials I should get something I need for it."

"Fair enough. The last girl we bought hair off of, I gave her my slippers too." She gestures at her sock feet. "She was even more clueless than you are, though--you're taking this seriously, though, not going, don't I just need to learn a spell to kill mals even after I've said only one in four kids make it out alive. We brought in familiars," she gestures to her spider, "so if after you've gotten your bearings you'd like to bargain for silk or baby spiders or spare outfits, hit us up, I'm sure the upperclassman can pay more for hair but it'd be sheer negligence not to put in our bid, you know?"

"Huh, not sure I know what to use spiders for. I get the feeling I'll need mana storage before long, correct me if I'm wrong? Anyway I'm gonna need friends too, or allies of mutual not-dying, so I might well end up taking you up on it."

"I couldn't help but overhear," a new kid says brightly, "Oh, sorry to interrupt, swear I wasn't eavesdropping, but as it happens I have some spare rubies brought along for just this purpose, trading them to people who need them. Maybe we can do a three-way barter here."

"You give her rubies, she gives us hair, we give you...? Do you have something in mind already, or do you want a sales pitch." 

"Could use some spare socks if you do weaving. Or go ahead and pitch, I bet I can find people who want all sorts of stuff. And if you need something in particular, go ahead and ask me."

"We don't exactly have spare socks--I did trade away my slippers because I have socks on underneath but we don't have, like, tons of spare clothes. What we do have are a breeding pair of Darwin's Bark Spider familiars," she gestures to the male on her neck and the female on Wilbur's, "which we can feed mal grubs instead of our own food. We have some trade goods in our weight allowance but our major planned exports are spider silk worked by an artificer with an affinity for thread," she nods at Wilbur, "and baby spiders. Darwin's Bark Spiders produce the strongest silk in the world, and silk produced by familiars has additional useful properties as an artificing material. Up front we have to trade a handful of extra pieces of clothing as proof of concept, or some of our mother's healing unguent; if you're willing to trust us and bet on us surviving a little while, we can make a more generous trade on layaway until we've got silk production set up and going."

"What is investment without any kind of risk? I think I'll take that layaway and trust you to give me something fair when you're all set up. Maybe beef up my jacket. As for the rubies, if slippers and information is worth one head of hair, I think - six is a fair trade, they're not tiny tiny ones."

"Yeah uh," she glances at Lucy to try and judge whether this guy is blatantly ripping her off. He doesn't seem to be, she's not particularly reacting? "Since you seem to think it's a fair price. I don't suppose you have any use for a phone or, uh, lipstick tube or pocket mirror or quarters? Or a pack of gum."

"Phone's kinda worthless, sorry. No easy way to charge it. Lipstick and pocket mirror and gum might be good, but better in a few months when people start missing that stuff, you know? And you might be able to get quarters to take your mana, if you've got nothing better. So, any objections to this here deal?"

She glances at Lucy again.

"Sell the lipstick to an enclaver upperclassman. Enclavers are the ones who have the slack to be able to afford to trade for little luxuries instead of life-saving resources. What room are you in? It's not safe to go to the bathrooms alone, and you're right about wanting friends slash loose allies at this point. You're not going to be able to get less-loose allies until you're less obviously handicapped relative to everyone else." 

She has to check her phone. "Two forty five bee. Oh, names? I'm Wendy."

"Kevin."

"Lucy. And this is Wilbur. I'm six-thirty-B."

"How're we supposed to tell who's close to who, am I gonna end up going together with my neighbors - Fuck, got a spare water bottle, Kev?"

"I do! Unfortunately, I'm not a charity, I've got it just as hard in here as you do, gimmie the gum pack."

Wendy shrugs and hands it over, receiving a thin plastic sports bottle in return.

"So how's this work Lucy, you have scissors? Can we trade rooms, are the rooms, like, magic shielded-"

"We have scissors. You can't swap rooms. You can poach, but you have to kill the other kid in a particularly unpleasant way, it's taboo even here. The rooms are...they're a lot better than nothing, but you want to check every nook and cranny regularly." She accepts the thread scissors from Wilbur again.