Where on Earth does that kid propose to get orange paint in the Scholo - right, New York. They're actually more spoiled than the Parisians! He theoretically knew this and is somehow still surprised.

(His facial expression is that of someone who is mildly charmed by the idea. He doesn't look like he's keeping much of an eye out, either, because he's mostly listening for signs of danger.) 

They make it down to the senior dorms uneaten and Julia finds room 716A, which is double-wide and therefore the natural dumping point for the stuff the departing seniors didn't need for their graduation plans and that the younger students didn't want. There's a lot. Big thin sheet metal, which she picks out at once; she wants that for her new chrome-themed room. A full-length mirror that tints everything purple but otherwise seems fine. A bunch of mixing bowls. A quilt stitched, presumably, out of discarded clothing.  A silver teapot with a set of teacups, clearly an artificing project, whistling of its own accord despite not being on a burner (it's instead on a elegant white wooden desk), jars and jars of alchemy concoctions, presumably not particularly useful ones; two standing lamps, both of which look like they burn some kind of alchemy; candles, an enormous white plastic barrel, a box of fabric scraps, a pair of shoes that must not have fit any of the older kids, probably because they're tiny, and crates they'll have to go through by hand. 

"What's wrong with the teapot?" she asks the senior who let them in.

               "It was great until we ran out of tea, then it got really pissed off about that and instead of leaving like a decent teapot it just glued itself to the desk and occasionally spits boiling water."

"How'd you have tea in the first place?"

               "Some Asian kid brought it in, it wasn't enchanted but it was, you know, caffeinated, and very light, we traded for it."

"All right," says Julia determinedly. "Anyone want the assignment of figuring out whether we can get some tea and restore the teapot to its former glory? It'd be really nice to have a water source in - did we keep it in the library?"

              "Yeah."

It is mildly astonishing that Julia is being that practical but nobody can be an idiot all the time, not and live to age fourteen in the first place. 

"I think I saw someone talking about trading luxuries," she volunteers. "Justinian and I can follow up on it." The two of them are Former Enclavers (as far as these people know) with the Former part being no fault of their own, and can therefore be trusted with more than just grunt work. 

"Awesome, thank you! Chicago can share with us sometimes if you sort it out. Okay, let's go through these crates, I already know we're taking those big metal sheets, which we're going to use to build a desk and shelving that doesn't look like it got here from the 1880s - is any of that alchemical stuff polish -" she asks the senior. 

        "Uh, some of it's acid, I guess you could use it for polish - the teapot's happy enough with a soft washcloth and a bunch of compliments, when we've got tea for it -"

"No, for my walls, I want them to be shiny so I stop feeling like I'm living in a shipping container."

       "Didn't you bring art supplies?"

"Yeah, but at this point I'm kind of attached to a chrome aesthetic? Karen thought of it too, she said this place could look like a spaceship. Anyway, Zeke's gonna need my share of the paint if he wants his whole room to be orange. Which ones are acid - is this, like, a 'wear work gloves' acid or a 'apply only with magic' acid -"

        "Uh, these ones are fine with gloves, this one I'm not giving a bunch of freshmen, you'll hurt yourselves -" He indicates some jars and Julia puts them in the 'take' pile. "Work gloves'll be in Melvin's crate, he was alchemy and had lots of safety gear."

So Julia sets on Melvin's crate and in addition to the work gloves finds goggles and a thick cloth apron. "Okay, whoever agrees to polish the walls of my room until they shine can keep the gloves and goggles," she declares.

Vernon raises his hand, because his planned official track is alchemy and you don’t get a better opening than that.

Rebecca has no idea how valuable that is or how hard it is to polish things. She is probably not going to major in alchemy anyway. She looks at Zeke and doesn't speak up of her own accord.

Zeke does not really look like he thinks that she should do that! 

Julia moves on to another crate, which is full of empty bottles and jars, and a third, which is full of...pickles? "What do these do?"

      "Oh, they're edible, but they're so miserably salty that you can't get the taste of salt out of your mouth for the rest of the day."

She passes those over too. Fourth crate contains badly tattered clothes. "Zeke, maybe look through these for presents for Rebecca?" 

Fifth crate contains -

A RUG!!!!!!!!

"There is a God," Julia declares delightedly, "and He loves me. - is this cursed -"

         "It was meant to be a flying carpet but it doesn't fly, and it's really temperamental."

"That's fine. I'm taking it. I have a void floor and I hate it."

         "It's really temperamental, it wants you to like, do yoga on it and talk about your feelings."

"I know yoga and have feelings." 

        "Every day."

"So it's, like, a therapist? Honestly, more students here should have a therapist. I love it. It's just looking out for our mental health, and you're too unappreciative."

“I don’t super wanna give you, like, rags? But if there’s anything in that crate that you wanna have you can, like, take it. And the shoes look like they could maybe fit you if you wanna have more shoes,” Zeke says, to Rebecca. “Also I’m totally taking the quilt, the quilt looks awesome.”

Karen also moves towards the clothing crate, keeping an eye on whether anyone looks freaked out or like she wasn't supposed to do that. She picks up some items that strike her as interesting and holds them up for Rebecca to see. "Some of these could probably be patched, if you didn't bring anything else."

(Karen: also did not bring anything else.)

"Vernon gets first pick after New York's done, but I don't mind if the two of you take anything he doesn't want either," Julia says. She is aware that it's actually a big deal to not hold up your end of deals, around here. "Oh, and I guess I should find something for garbage heap kid, in case he does his three weeks and doesn't turn out to be a maleficer up to something evil, though I bet he will." She goes back to the clothes pile for things for garbage heap kid.

Huh! She honors her deals. He kind of wasn’t expecting that, but he’s pleased about it anyway. See, this is why it pays to be a spare minion, you get to learn who is good for the spirit of their deals instead of just the words.

Vernon, being a good minion, continues to be wallpaper. Wallpaper looking out for mals, of course, but still.

        "Garbage heap kid?" says the senior, who is doing pull-ups with a bar above their bed. He's very good at them.

"Uh, we got followed by this weird kid who just wanted to point out every mal around, he can detect them? I think he's maleficing, cause they're supposed to have bad vibes, right, but he also smells like a garbage heap and it's possible it's just that."

       The senior looks to Zeke and Silas and Orion for a perhaps more informed estimation of the situation.

Silas shrugs. "He seemed really weird."

Rebecca sorts through things. It's pretty dire, but if she can get fabric and sewing stuff she can sew and embroider it into passability. She is super taking the shoes.

“I dunno?” says Zeke to the senior. “I don’t wanna, like, be mean to him behind his back, if he’s just from a different culture or whatever.”

"He's good at finding mals apparently?" Orion remarks when people seem expectant. He's rummaging through random supplies without much focus.

Oh my god, Orion.

The senior, looking exasperated at all of them, swings down from the pullup bar. "The kid followed you here? Is he still here?"

"I mean, I doubt he wandered off on his own, he'll get eaten."

The senior steps outside to look for maybe maleficer kid.

Vernon probably doesn't want girls' clothes, but she feels like she should at least check. She looks around for Vernon and then realizes that she has no idea how to tell who Vernon is without asking. How do you ask in a way that doesn't sound stupid... 'who's Vernon' sounds bad somehow.... 'which one's Vernon' is even worse... 'vernon?' is ambiguous about what she's asking and also sounds kind of bad... oh!

"I don't think I've met Vernon?" Hopefully Vernon will take this as an opportunity to introduce himself?

Vernon isn't particularly offended by not being known, but it's not like Karen knows that. He perks up at his name, though, and looks attentive.

"Oh, hey. Vernon Durant. And you are?"

(And he can gently steer the both of them to be Out Of The Enclavers' way to quietly have this introduction, instead of being rude and thinking they're like the real people here.)

Masozi is still waiting outside the dorm room, back against the wall, going through his regular scanning-pattern. He's saving his mana by only doing it visually - he's got a pretty good position for that - but at this point he seems to be holding back an entire family of something spiky with too many eyes. They're very interested in coming down through the ceiling and he is burning through way more mana than he would prefer persuading them to, instead, not do that. 

He's very relieved when an older-looking kid pokes his head out! 

"Mals up there," he says, cheerfully enough, and points. "You'll have spells to kill them, yeah?" And he releases his push on their tiny but irritatingly stubborn minds. 

The older kid mutters something and fries them without much apparent effort, and then turns his attention back to Masozi, very coldly. "Get the fuck out of here, and stay off the New York freshmen. We will avenge them and we will be pissed about it."

Masozi stares at the older student blankly. "I– what?"

Then the contents of his words catch up and he's actually kind of angry, though this doesn't show much; if anything, he looks calmer and less scary, since less of his full attention is going toward situational awareness. He folds his arms and meets the senior's eyes, levelly. 

"Look. I dunno what you thought I was doing, but I came down here because that girl who wanted the rug wasn't looking where she was going at all and at least two of the others didn't know about magic until today and I didn't want anyone to die!" 

"Did I fucking stutter. New York does not consort with maleficers, I do not have time for this shit, and you are lucky I am letting you run."