Here's a desperate looking weirdo with buzzcut red hair and no backpack and bulging raincoat pockets, staring grimly down at a spellbook in German.

Yeah, he'll chance it.

"Hey — you haven't hit the supply rooms yet, right? Wanna come with?"

Near her there's someone who is Definitely chill and not anxious and not repressing all of his feelings but like, in kind of a doth-protest-too-much sort of way. "I haven't, if there's room for me." 

Wil isn't much of a desperate weirdo himself but that's about who he wants to make friends with; he heads up to the group. "Hey, I'm Wil. Brighton. Want a fourth?"

"Huh? Oh, I guess we're doing this, yeah. Stuff is good. Safety in numbers."

This is way easier than he thought it'd be.

"Sure. More people we've got the better."

"I don't know many spells yet but I've got a basic zap and shield and something for ghosty things, I think. 'Malign spirits'. And I'll keep a lookout."

"I think most people don't really know many spells yet? --I'm Leander, incidentally, nice to meet you guys." 

"Z," he says, by way of introduction — "you guys think four's enough for this?"

Shrug. "We'll be fine, it's the first day."

He nods, satisfied.

"Cool. Who's got a sense of direction?"

"Me!" Wil puts his hand half up and grins. "Just going to the supply room, right?"

"Yep. Unless anybody's got other brilliant ideas."

"Just the supply room sounds good to me at least."

"Is there more than one? If y'all are just going to one I won't drag you to more, though."

"Well, there's some class-specific stuff in the workshop and the labs, but mostly it's just the one." Wil confidently takes the lead.

He will follow the guy who knows where he's going! And try to learn the path as much as he can. Not great to get lost in here.

Wil is suddenly very aware that he's in front, which means danger, and also they are very much heading down which isn't great even on the first day, but he's the one who knows where they're going and Chicago girl had said she was keeping lookout, so probably it's fine, right? Right.

Anyway, time for stairs. Lots of stairs.

She's definitely scanning the whole area anxiously, with particular attention to drains and ceiling vents, and now has a knife out.

He doesn't have a knife out but he is keeping his eyes on the corners of halls.

"...It wouldn't be surprising if we don't find anything," she says after they finish with the stairs and she carefully checks the backside of the stairwell, "Other students have been this way recently, probably."

"Here's hoping."

Once they reach the door, though, he still steps back for a few seconds after they open it, to survey.

After a few moments of also peering inside... Wendy chants her little shield-chant and steps through the doorway, mindful of anything ready to leap at or drop on her.

Nothing happens.

"Doorway's clear! But watch your step."

He ducks in as well, and heads off to gather notebooks and pens and whatever artificing material he can scrounge up, keeping an eye out for anything weird or valuable.

They're not early, but it looks like they're not too late, either. The shelves aren't bare by any means.

What she needs is a bag. This place is pretty big though and she's suspicious of the shelves, doesn't want to get too far from everyone else. She starts looking inside boxes (knife first) and under things.

In addition to anything weird and valuable that Z might find, he also finds a small, pale, sickly-looking thing whirling around in anger.

"I told you I don't-"

"Oh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else. Um, there's still stuff over here if you want it."

Meanwhile, Wendy finds a boy tapping his foot impatiently by the boxes she's gone to investigate.

"Oh, hey. Figured we'd gather a crowd before he was finished. That boy really loves his paper. I'm Riley."

"Well, we're going to need to do homework, right? Wendy."

Pencils, check. A couple of ratty looking notebooks, check. A few different kinds of loose paper that she's not interested in. A jar full of - sand? Maybe it's not sand. And a glass jar is potentially useful anyway. She quietly mutters the German incantation against "malign spirits" in case it's possessed then takes it. Some kind of plastic personal organizer? It's better than nothing, after she nudges it with her switchblade to make sure it's not a mimic. The pencils go in there. Ooh, one of those rubbery flexible rulers.

"You seen any bags or backpacks around here, Riley?"

"If you're looking for bags, right this way."

Riley will lead her to a bin sitting on the floor containing three backpacks, one of which he takes.

"What kind of things are your friends looking for?"

She looks over the remaining two bags - paranoidly checking them pocket by pocket even though nothing bit Riley just now - and takes the bigger one despite it being a weird shade of purple.

"Cool thanks. I think it's more 'herd behavior' than 'friendship' so far? Z seems cool, though. The guy with the tats."

Nod.

"That's how it is early on. You can't trust anyone to have your back until they prove they'll have yours. It's a nasty cycle for most of us, unless you're in an enclave. My big idea is to watch other people's backs until they get the picture."

Riley starts packing his backpack with one of everything he sees, one by one. If he checks, that should save Wendy some time, so he makes sure to do it in full view of her.

She peers at the back wall of selves and the bottom of boxes anyway. And yeah, if they're here, might as well load up on stuff. Someone might need some of it.

"I think I'm better off than some of the other muggleborns. 'M used to the suck and watching out. For gang kids not mals, but," she shrugs. "Hey, how does artificing work? I like tinkering, I can pick locks - normal ones - figured it's probably for me so I asked the school for more of it."

"You'd have better luck asking an artificer. I know there's a lot of putting together and taking apart dangerous bits and bobs. I hear they have almost as much trouble with explosions as alchemists."

"Well, I figure as an outsider the only way I'll make it is if I make stuff. I think my affinity might be metal? I have a spell for pulling out nails and screws from things - and also from, like, bullet wounds - that barely costs anything. Like way less than the shield someone showed me."

"You've got the right idea, yeah. Sometimes affinities decide for you. Have you ever done any magic, or is this all new to you? I know around mundanes it can be hard to get anything going."

"Before here, you mean? Some stuff that like, looking back on it I'm not even sure was definitely magic. Hid from some kids. Opened my locker by swearing at it."

"Not bad. Do you have someone looking out for you?"

This- probably makes it sound like he's offering, doesn't it. Hopefully she's neither offended nor inclined to take him up on it, but- Riley is really not sure he can play the role he always imagined himself playing. It's too tempting to get involved when other people need support. He's not even confident leaving the ball of despair alone for very long.

"Not really. And even if you're offering, like-"

She pokes a thing of lip balm to cover her thoughtfulness.

"-I know nice people exist but I'd still be thinking, what's he want? You know? You watch out for someone if it's a crew you're running with or you're getting something off 'em, like answer keys or drugs. I'm a tragic muggleborn city trash who's not gonna be useful, I've gotta watch myself. And I don't know what-all magic can do, maybe it can do mind control, so I'm on extra high alert and not feeling friendly, I guess."

She shrugs and grabs the thing of lip balm.

"That said if you want to trade favors I'm potentially up for that. Step 1 to friendship or something."

"Smart instincts. I'm can't offer more than that, myself; when you don't have enclave resources, it's all about earning goodwill. Independents gotta stick together, because no one else is sticking up for us but ourselves."

"That's the thing, though. Enclaves have a trust floor. They know each other. They have plans for after they get out. Independents kind of... Don't."

He shrugs.

"New York and Shanghai aren't letting me into their graduation alliances no matter what I do. Maybe I could get in good with a small enclave, but my money is on working with a couple of good indies. I might not find them now- it's way too early to expect someone to stick with you until graduation- but I'm not giving up on the plan."

"Yeah, sounds about right. You've gotta bring something other than being a native to the table, though."

(On the other side of the room—)

"Uh — thanks."

He starts rifling through the objects on the shelves, dumping permanent markers and white-out and, holy shit, a notebook with POCKETS into his bag.

"Somebody messing with you?"

"He's trying to help," Virgil says disdainfully.

"Can't really trust that, though, not on the first day. There's some paperclips there too," he points.

"—ooh, nice."

He grabs them. School supply and personal adornment. Big win.

"I dunno. What kind of help's he trying?"

He pushes aside a few empty boxes, peering towards the back of the shelf.

"I wanted to get supplies on my own, but he wouldn't let me. Said I needed someone watching my back."

"...I mean, it's not the greatest plan, but if somebody literally won't let you go alone that's kinda sketch."

—ooh, safety pins.

"What about you? Do you know these people?"

"Nah. But it's better than nothing, right?"

-nod.

"I just wish I could- it would just be so much easier if- I just want to get this over with."

Virgil already has his school supplies picked out, but he grabs an extra paper click and starts playing with it.

"...hey."

He glances over his shoulder, makes sure there's nobody close enough to hear.

"None of us...knows what's gonna happen yet."

"I know that," he snaps.

- this is a stranger, trying to be nice, he shouldn't just- this is probably a way to get stupidly killed, just talking about this where anyone can hear, and then arguing with them- Virgil doesn't want to go like that, he never has.

"Sorry. You're right. I'm just- you know."

He probably doesn't know, and it's not like Virgil has successfully communicated it to him. Ugh.

"What else do you need? I can help you look."

"...yeah."

He adjust his bag on his shoulders.

"Uh — not holding out hope for fabric, but it wouldn't hurt. Soap is good. Ink's really good. You?"

"I didn't see any ink, but I can look.

I won't really need that much."

Virgil starts to look for ink, soap...there probably won't be fabric, but maybe the void is feeling generous.

Meanwhile:

"That's true. I have a potion recipe that the punchier types can use, and I'm a good writer, but you're right, it can't hurt to add more skills."

"I overheard someone saying year one is leaning not to die. Year two is where we get cool stuff."

"That's right. If you came in without something you can sell, trade, or use, you gotta learn fast. You seem smart, though. Just find someone to watch your back in the halls- get a girl to go with to the bathrooms, at least one- and use the next few days to find out where all your classes are and if you know anyone in them. The buddy system is your best friend."