The blur of slightly familiar faces and names tied knots in her gut. Pixels once on a screen were now living, breathing flesh. Angie had expected herself to react unfavorably in these uncharted waters, but she didn't expect to sink lower into her chair the longer these introductions went by. She even pulled her hat down too, for good measure. Reading about these people and their lives behind a screen felt like flipping through the pages of a fictional book while trying to discern its convoluted plot. Sitting here in person made her skin tingle, as if a puppeteer's unseen strings were twisting and uncurling, attaching themselves to her limbs as the seconds ticked by.

Shaking her head, Angie got rid of those horrid thoughts and told herself to calm down. There was no sense in making a scene now. All this must just be the exhaustion from her morning journey catching up to her. Well, that and the dead soulless Ai. If they were capable of that, what more were they keeping behind closed doors and hushed whispers? Sighing, Angie clutched her backpack closer to her chest. Brushing her fingers over it, she felt the hard casing of her father's med-kit poke through beneath the surface. It reminded her a lot of him – strong and sturdy, but weary and bruised. Scarred by passing years, too. The age of it was definitely apparent, though not in the traditional sense of peeling paint - the med-kit was simply an unceremonious metal box with a handle – but through the noticeably looser hinges and the many scratches on its dull, gray surface. But even with all its faults, it was one of the only material possessions that Angie cherishes (the other would be the hat she was wearing, bought for her by her uncle). Efficient was an apt way to describe that metal box, and that too is another word Angie could use to describe her father by.

When it came to Angie's turn for her introduction, she rested her backpack against the leg of her chair and stood up straight. “Greetings, everyone.” she said, straining to put on a genuine smile. “I'm Anzhelika, but most people just call me Angie. It's a.. pleasure to meet you all.” A small, almost unnoticeable sigh escaped from her. Thinking it wise to stop this little fake act, Angie dropped her smile before it turned even more obviously forced. Besides, this particular group probably saw right through it. “I'm the Ultimate Unlicensed Medical Practitioner.”

When everything was said and done, Angie followed the actions of many others and grabbed the card key to her room. It felt cold in her grasp, but no doubt radiated warmth and promises of a better future in the hands of others. Surprisingly, despite herself, Angie couldn't help but let a small corner of her heart hope. That small part of resistant optimism looked to her and said 'Hey, everything is probably going to turn out better than expected! This place is big enough for you to find solitude when needed, but the ever present company of others may just be what's needed to nudge you out of your shell! By the end of it all, you'll be looking back to how you were and laugh at how much you've changed!'

Hoping definitely felt like an act of sinning though, even if people preach that it isn't.

Slinging her backpack over her shoulders, Angie made the decision to visit the mansion's library. A good book or two never hurt anybody, though there were far more important things to be done. Taking more than her fair share of red-coloured savory goodness, Angie sat down and savored each delightful bite with a soft smile. It's isn't everyday you get to enjoy premium quality strawberries.