The silence broke as vern's look of dismay at the thought anyone could belive they hurt people, soon turned into a smile once again as vern stated "I don't hurt fellow oddites never in a millon cajillion years!" vern losend there already weak grip at the vent "i just want to talk and show someone my-" vern's eye locked on the rabbit doll and for once in there life vern's face showed empathy if only for a second "WERE DID YOU GET A PLUSHIE??" Vern was practicly bounceing off the wall muttering about how cute the rabbit was.

Vern let out a child like squile like a 2 year old on cristmas.

The cry coming from the bird was sobering. No matter the prey drive that had been built into him by the institution, that cry of fear brought him back to the real world. Misha was huddled onto the ground, nesting into the floor. Enzos eyes flickered to his hands, seeing the boys fingers dig into the ground. That was what he wanted right? To show him his place? But the fear in his eyes reached out to Enzo like a cry for help. Then it flinched away. A shaky laugh echoed throughout the room, but this time was different. It didnt hold the same confidence his past mockery did. It was uneven, hesitant even. But yet, the bird still mustered a smile. It was impressive, if he was honest. To face your fear with laughter.

Enzo felt himself shiver a bit, ears perking back up as he watched Misha. His tail dropped to the floor in rest. That empathy soon fled, as another remark left the lips of his counterpart. Kitty? He wasn't some house cat, he was pumped with the DNA of a feared and respected predator. The air around them was still, their audience watching intently. Guards were snickering in the corner, why weren't they stopping him? This was a weak point for Misha, an opportunity he could take. It seemed off to him, that the guards seemed unbothered. He let out a small chuckle, raking his hand through his hair and loosening the feathers that had tangled into it during their fight. "And the little birdy almost lost his wings hm? Be careful playing around with things you aren't ready for." Enzos gaze hardened on the boy, the sympathy he had prior washing away. He stepped forward, inches from Misha, and tilted his head curiously "Are you done with your little show?"

OOC (this one's short)

Vern's child like joy reached hight's beyond the sky as they started running in a circle wille makeing giggleing noise's before they stop and sit down.

"Hi Charlie I'm Vern do you like butten's i have buttens if you want some" uncovering a pouch that look's exactly like the one's workers have, then looks at mila directly in the eye's "Do youuu like butten's?"

Misha POV:

---

Misha’s mouth twitched at Enzo’s reply, his usual smirk threatening to falter. He was cornered—and he knew it. The corridor felt smaller now, too many eyes watching, too little room left to dodge or bluff. His wing, bruised and stripped of feathers, pulsed with a dull ache. Without the full use of it, he couldn’t fly. Couldn’t flip over Enzo’s shoulders or disappear into the rafters. Couldn’t turn the fight into a game again.

Not this time.

He was stuck between two choices: admit defeat publicly… or lose publicly. Neither sat well with him. For a brief moment, the ever-present gleam in his eyes dulled, a flicker of uncertainty cracking through his carefully maintained mask.

Then he gave a sharp exhale, and with the faintest shrug of his shoulder, muttered, “Suppose the fun’s done… for now.”

He turned on his heel, trying to walk away like he still had the upper hand, like he’d chosen to leave, like it was just the next step in some plan only he understood. But the guards didn’t buy it. Their smirks said it all—someone had finally backed Misha into a corner he couldn’t twist or fly his way out of. That smug little bird had been grounded.

Still, he kept his chin high as he passed Aeris’s room, dropping a small cloth bag at her feet. Inside were stolen sweets, a few trail nuts, and some scrappy food pilfered from the staff kitchen. A wordless apology. Misha wasn’t completely heartless—just a menace with terrible timing. Maybe even a little guilty.

Later, with the courtyard empty and shadows stretching long across the cracked concrete, Misha was alone. Far from the others, far from their judgmental stares. He stood in the far corner of the yard, wings half-spread. The air was still. Quiet.

And then—slam.

He flapped hard, trying to lift, just a few feet—but his balance was off. The missing feathers, the pain in his chest, the wobble in his control—it sent him crashing to the ground again. Knees scraped raw. Fingers bruised and shaking. Dirt smudged his face as he pushed himself up again, eyes dark with fury. Not at Enzo. Not even at the guards.

At himself.

He tried again. Fell again. Again. The rage was silent now, boiling under the surface. His teeth clenched, breath short, throat tight with emotion he’d never admit to.

This wasn’t for show. No one was watching. Not even Aeris. Not even Enzo—

Except… Enzo was watching.

From a window above, unseen by Misha, Enzo had noticed. And for the first time, he saw Misha not as a cocky, laughing nightmare—but as something else. Something raw. Alone. Vulnerable.

The truth of Misha's reality was written in every frustrated fall, every tremble of his arms as he tried to get up again. He was furious at himself for losing. Furious at his failure. Furious that, no matter how fast he flew or how clever he was, he still ended up pushing everyone away.

Even Enzo, who had scared trainers before, who could make people flinch just by walking into a room—even he hadn’t chased off his handlers the way Misha had.

And yet, as pitiful as it was, it was still hard to feel fully sorry for him. Misha was a storm you couldn’t get close to without being shredded by the wind. And though Enzo now saw the damage it did to him, that didn’t make forgetting the chaos he caused any easier.

Still... he watched. And didn’t look away.

Mila POV

Mila’s breath had slowly steadied, the pounding of her heart quieting bit by bit as she watched Vern’s gaze linger not on her, but on the stuffed rabbit in her arms. The terrifying image she had first conjured of him—bloody hands, hollow eyes, the twisted stories they told her of "Rejects"—it all began to crack at the edges. There was something childlike in the way Vern looked at the plush, a flicker of something achingly human behind his strange, still expression.

And in that small, quiet moment, Mila realized something.

He wasn’t going to hurt her.

Her body softened, no longer stiff with fear. She hesitated—just a breath—before shifting a little closer to the vent’s opening, her fingers still nervously playing with the hem of her dress. Her amber eyes watched Vern cautiously, then curiously. Her voice was still quiet, like it hadn’t been used in years, but a tiny smile curled on her lips.

“I… love buttons,” she said suddenly, almost as if blurting a secret.

She tugged at the edge of her skirt, holding it out with both hands to show him. Dozens of mismatched buttons were sewn haphazardly across the fabric—some chipped, some dangling by a single thread. There were old trinkets too: a small rusted bell, a cracked bead, a seashell with a hole through it, even what looked like a broken key. None of it matched. None of it was fancy. But it was hers, and the pride in her voice made that clear.

“I sewed them on myself,” she added, her smile growing warmer now. “They’re all little… little stories.”

One of the buttons had a tiny flower etched in it. Another was shaped like a star. There were so many different textures and colors that Vern could have stared at them for hours and still not seen every detail. Mila gently brushed her fingers over one, a small green marble with a dented edge, like it had been through a lot—like her.

She looked back up at Vern, no longer trembling, no longer seeing a monster. There was a flicker of connection now, something tender and unsure but real. Like maybe, just maybe, someone else here understood what it meant to stitch broken things back together.

Vern remembered everything well everything but the child that loved art and painted and had sewen together a frog doll but just in that moment of stareing at someone's pachwork...

It had finnaly made sense now vern reconized the child that they kept dreaming about was..

Vern reconized they were the child from the dream

Vern started to cry still holding a smile as they pored what seemed like million's of buttens from the bag, pushing a plie to were mila was "You got quite a amizeing collection Mila"...

Aeris froze in place when Misha came up to her, eyes widening slightly in panic. Yes, she'd been envious of his confidence but she hadn't literally wanted to talk to him. He had way too much energy and was too unpredictable to her. Her handler told him to go, in a voice much harsher than the one he used with her. Wings beginning to fold closer to her. She couldn't fly so they were pretty much just decoration, apart from the occasional flutter when she tried hard enough. Maybe she could be brave. This would be progress, right? Opening her mouth a little, Aeris tried to get a sentence or a few words out. Nope, not happening! Instead she let out a tiny squeak and shuffled closer to her handler. Let's try this again.

Aeris took a few deep breaths and looked back to Misha. Don't make eye contact...

"I... I'm not a newbie," she muttered quickly. Her handler looked down at her in surprise before a soft smile replaced the frown.

"See? Progress." He turned his head to Misha again. "Now shoo! You've been helpful and all but Aeris doesn't need this right now." Misha swiftly turned his attention back to Enzo. Alpha subject. She couldn't even start to describe her immense relief. Suddenly her tray went flying and her handler gave an annoyed grunt. Aeris was too nervous to watch this part. Enzo was dangerous, Alpha subjects were very much so, and Misha was testing his boundaries. Her handler gently tugged on her elbow. He could tell when she got nervous. Most people could. She was still hungry.

In the short walk to the Observation Chamber, Aeris' panic only increased. They stopped short of just a few steps from the door. Aeris began shaking her head. She wasn't going in.

"Aeris, you have to. You have to comply. It'll be quick, don't worry." He also said that a lot. It took some more convincing but he eventually managed to gently push her along through the door.

Enzo:

Watching Misha retreat was like a reward for him. He had found a way to beat chaos himself. He knew the little menace would be back at his antics soon enough, but it was a relief to have a break. After watching Misha leave, Enzo decided to do the same. He exited the doors on the opposite side of the cafeteria, joining his handler at the door. No words were said, only a mutual understanding of what had gone down. Enzo paced straight back to his dorm to change, and finally get out of those filthy clothes.

The warm shower water cleared the stench of milk off his skin, as small feathers were washed out of his hair. Picking one up, Enzo admired it. A beautiful black and golden hue that matched his usual outfits. It was ironic really.

Clean and refreshed, Lorenzo dressed himself in his training gear, a black tank top and shorts adorned with his usual gold chain. In place of his combat boots he wore padded sneakers that made maneuverability much easier in training. His outfit showcased the beautiful rosettes lining his shoulders.

As he exited the room, he headed towards his favored training grounds. It was a small place on the west wing of Institute, past the courtyard, with dummies for training and plenty of gym equipment. His handler was there waiting for him. This was some of his allotted free time before his later combat training that would be closely monitored, and he had decided to get some practice in beforehand.

Walking through the halls, Enzo gazed out onto the courtyard. He saw an all too familiar figure, Misha. Falling, over and over again, it was pointless, and yet here he was trying. Had Enzo really been the cause of this? Misha talked himself up so much, Enzo hadn't expected anything like this. He watched as the boy trembled on the ground, he couldn't place what it was. Fear? Or anger?

The little feather ball of chaos seemed to have something else going on, something under the surface. It peaked his curiosity. He was never usually a very nosey individual, but ever since the experiments, it seemed he had an urge to know things. This being one of them.

Enzo didn't pity him, he had been too much of a problem thus far, but he was interested in seeing how this would end. So he stayed, entranced by the bird out the window.

Zephyr was buzzing with energy by the time his handler came to collect him.

"Today's one of those days, huh, Zephyr?" His handler was used to his fluctuating moods.

Nodding, Zephyr jumped to his feet. "We need to hurry, what if all the muffins are gone?" Chuckling lightly, his handler led him to the dining hall. Or rather followed him. Zephyr was bounding down the hallway. It took him a bit of self-control to not run on all fours. The second this thought popped into his head, Zephyr immediately stopped.

"Is everything okay?" his handler asked, her voice laced with slight concern. Zephyr's mismatched eyes flicked from her to the dining hall door. Moments like this scared him. He loved his new powers but a part of him hated how he was becoming more of an animal, a beast, with each day that passed. Running a hand through his golden hair, he smiled and turned to his handler. She nodded firmly in return, understanding what that meant perfectly. It had taken a while but she learned how Zephyr preferred to communicate without words.

Stepping into the hall, Zephyr looked around. The hall was mostly quiet, a few hushed voices drifting through the crowd. Enzo was standing over a cowering Misha. Zephyr could tell what had happened - it had happened to him too many times before. It was hard to control instincts like that. He frowned, disappointed that he missed the most exciting part and collected a tray of food. There were still plenty of muffins left and he took a massive bite of his once he sat on the edge of a table.

"You have some free time then combat training later." Zephyr didn't react but she didn't say anything else. He finished the last of his muffin, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and got up. He went out to the courtyard where he could see Misha. Curious, Zephyr walked over to him, a playful smile on his lips.

"So, what did you do to make Enzo annoyed? He has a bit of a temper but not without good reason. You should be glad he didn't snap you in two."

Misha wasn't one of Zephyr's friends. At least, he didn't consider Misha as one but Zephyr had a skill of being able to go up to anyone and talk to them. Very much unlike some of the more shy and skittish hybrids in the Institute. Zephyr blamed it on the animal DNA. And the scientists, he couldn't forget them. They were, after all, the whole reason they were there.

For that, Zephyr wasn't sure whether he was grateful or angry.