This kid is definitely some kind of weirdo outcast! He's African by the look of it, wearing absurdly mismatched clothes and worn plastic flip-flops. He's currently pacing the perimeter of the room, eyes moving constantly in a scanning pattern - corners, floor, ceiling, ventilation grates, walls, back to corners. He has the vibe of a malificer, but none of the physical signs; his nails are normal. Also some of it might just be the literal whiff of garbage-dump scent that trails in his wake. 

Perfect.

Mal sidles up near him -- not trying to approach from his blind spot, keeping a respectful distance.

"Someone payin' you to patrol, or you givin' it away for free?"

Masozi isn't startled because he felt the other kid coming. He is, however, very confused. "- What? Nobody's paying me, I'm just not stupid." And no one else here seems to have nearly enough practice at keeping a lookout, though to be fair there are ten times fewer mals here than he's used to. 

"Seems like you're gettin' the short end of the stick a bit. Keepin' watch for the whole room while they get themselves all orientated an' stuff."

Masozi's expression says clearly that he thinks this is a really weird attitude to have. He'd be keeping a lookout for himself anyway. 

"S'not like I want them to die," he points out. "They'll learn. ...I hope." 

"Sure. But you're providing a service, you oughta be seein' some appreciation for it, that's all."

.....Such a baffling attitude to have! And this is the SECOND person who's approached him and said something vaguely appreciative in that space! Which would be less confusing if not for the part in the middle where he tried to be helpful and keep the careless kids from getting themselves killed, and then the senior from New York threatened to murder him for being a 'maleficer', which he still doesn't really understand! 

"- Well, you're appreciating it," he points out. "So - thanks, I guess." 

"I know which side my bread's buttered on. I'm Mal, by the way."

"I'm Masozi. Pleased to meet you." 

What does this guy WANT from him. This entire social interaction is just so different from anything he's experienced before and he has no idea what to make of it. 

"What track are you going? I'm languages, officially." And thus of course maintenance, unofficially.

"...I don't know yet. I didn't know I'd be in this school at all until a few days ago. Maybe artificing?" 

"Slot open up last minute?"

Nod. "In Johannesburg. I'd - heard about the school - in time to travel down. And then a space opened up, yeah." 

"Lucky you. Spent the last four years angling for a Tejano spot, myself. Ain't a walk in the park to come by anywhere."

"I guess not." 

...Masozi decides to take a risk, because at the very least this boy's response might be informative. 

"If I survive," he says calmly, "I'm going back for my baby sister. Left her with a mundane family back in Malawi. Our parents are dead. She's four so she won't be - much of a target for mals - for a while." 

"Smart. Mundanes'll help. Specially if it's a big family, lotsa kids around all the time."

“That’s what I hoped, anyway.”

"Well. Supposin' you care to make it as long as that -- my crew an' I are fixin' to stake out a spot in the library tomorrow, while the gettin's good. Want in?"

"- Sure, all right." Masozi pauses. Frowns. "Why'd you gotta stake out a spot? Do people have territories there?" 

"Way I hear it, yeah, and the library's where you wanna be at."

"Does sound useful." And he still needs to look for books on what maleficing does to people. "Who's in your crew?" 

"It's up-an'-coming."

This is the world's most cheerfully confident bullshit.

- ah, which means he's improvising and has no idea. Masozi thinks this is a pretty reasonable strategy. 

"Well, what sort of skills do you still need? I met some people earlier. Could introduce you if you wanted." 

"Sick. Could use some folks who know their way around the classwork, an' some muscle. Not to mention a pretty face never hurt nobody."

Masozi considers this. 

"...Did you see the girl who showed up naked 'cause she was so big and strong she had no leftover weight allotment? I mean, I dunno if she's already in an alliance and I figure she's got lots of offers by now but you could ask her. ...Oh, and I met this other kid, Ghassan? He seemed to know his way around. Um, I mean, he - came and found me and said some things about how I was good at keeping lookout, like you. Bet he's been looking for people - maybe you should ask him?" 

“—I can’t talk to her,” Mal says, appalled, “she’s nekkid.”

"I bet she'll stop being naked soon! She came right in with a plan to get someone's extra clothes for when they're older?" The concept of bringing in spare clothes that don't even FIT you yet is so baffling to Masozi. 

"Sounds like a prospect, then."

Masozi nods. "Good. And - I don't know if you've met Lucy yet? She and her brother are the ones who have spider familiars. I dunno if you'll want them on your crew but they seemed to be meeting a whole lot of people so maybe they'd know who to introduce you to? Lucy was really helpful." 

"Sounds mighty promisin'. I'll let you know how it turns out."

Has the girl acquired clothes and thus become speakable yet? That whole situation does sound like a symptom of a stone-cold badass.

It does in fact transpire that Bobbie is clothed before too long, and back in the cafeteria with the rest of the crowd.

She is really enormously tall. Mal's gonna get a crick in his neck.

"Wrestled any good water buffalo lately?" he asks her, somewhat admiring, with all the subtlety of a steam shovel in a china shop.

"No, they kicked me out of the league after I won my third championship. What do you want."

"Your ass, my corner," he says, cheerfully succinct.

"And what has your corner got that my ass might want?"

"With any luck? A literal corner. Gonna stake out some space in the library. Crew to watch your back. An' whatever we can scrape up to share. Got any use for an enchanted underwire?"

" - See, you should have led with that. But it sounds like you want more of a commitment than I'm willing to give just yet."

"Don't worry, I ain't breakin' out the friendship bracelets yet. You give it a shot, you decide it ain't your speed, no hard feelings."

"Well then. Who else is in your little gang?"

"It's up-an'-coming," he repeats, bright and full of bullshit.

"...So, just you."

"Get in on the ground floor!"

"Way it looks to me is you want someone tougher than you to watch your back and don't have a ton to offer in return. Unless that underwire was not purely hypothetical in which case I'd like to know how the hell you got it."

"Have to be a sucker to want someone less tough to watch my back. Brought it in, how else?"

"Were you expecting a lot of girls to come in without bras or are you into crossdressing."

"It was light and enchanted and I had it."

"Well I won't press further. Think it'd fit me?"

"Reckon so. Enchanted for it -- stick it in, y'know, delicates, an' they fit."

"...That is both more and less practical than I was expecting. What kind of would-be gang leader can't say 'tits'?"

"You don't stick it in your--"

He makes a cupping motion in front of his chest instead.

"--you stick it in your. Lacy shit. You know."

(The answer to her question appears to be: the kind who can't say bra, either.)

"I meant the enchantment, I was vaguely expecting fireproofing or something. I also thought you meant a whole bra, not just the wire."

"So what do you do, apart from recruitment?"

"Crime!" Mal says, cheerfully. "Also fixin' shit. And breakin' shit. Sometimes that one's crime too."

"...In my experience smart criminals tend not to advertise that fact."

"Ain't never claimed to be a smart crime guy."

"What crimes exactly are you thinking you'll be doing in here? 'Cause there's not exactly a ton of laws to break." Kid does not look like he's planning to poach somebody. Is he going to... stay out after curfew and get eaten?

"You know, that's a mite philosophical, ain't it? Is a crime still a crime, if it falls in the forest an' nobody hears it?"

He shrugs. "Only been here an hour, ain't got something I do here yet."

This kid is really weird. And it's probably a bad idea to sign on to his criminal gang, given how Bobbie's already committed to bodyguarding a maleficer and should really be prioritizing getting in with some people who are not evil. Or not-evil-but-super-weird aspiring criminal masterminds.

"Alright. Well, I'll, uh, keep your offer in mind."

Mal gives her a loose, two-fingered salute, and wanders off to continue his quest for freaks.

This person over here is standing in a corner, looking vaguely threatening and strange and not talking to anyone? 

Vaguely threatening and strange is his favorite kind of people!

"Nice corner you got there."

“Is it?”

"Sure. All angular an' stuff. Got the crucial cornery components."

“Shocking. What do you want.”

"Guy can't make conversation? It's a free country."

“You can make conversation. Why should I entertain it.”

"My unparalleled wit an' charm?"

“I’ve seen better. Get to the point or leave.”

"Yes ma'am." A tiny hint at a salute. "Puttin' together a group, gonna stake out some space in the library while the gettin's good, bit of back-watchin', you know the drill. Share the goods and good the, uh. Uh. ... I was goin' somewhere with that but I forget where."

“Has anyone already taken you up on this proposition.”

"I gotta coupla plates in the air."

“I’m sure you do. Goodbye,” she says, removing herself from the corner.

Pity. At least he got a corner out of the deal.