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"Broken" Vessel

"It my first day at the new school and everyone else is wearing skin. How was I supposed to know? Dressing in a swarm of bugs seemed so obvious! I could just fly through any assigned reading and split my attention in dozens of directions. But no. Now I have detention for causing a distraction."

The voice at the heart of a mass of bugs seemed comfortable complaining at length to me. Which I guess was fair. If my attention wandered, I had a tendency to melt into a pile of sand that would slide out of my seat. So I was content enough to listen.

I found myself somewhat envious of the ability to divide one's attention and briefly wondered if it could be taught. I immediately regretted it as all definition in my sand shaped body lost its detail. It was strange attempting to mirror the vast majority of the students here who molded themselves in flesh.

A giggle turned my attention from the cloud of insects seated next to me. In the back of an otherwise empty classroom was a feminine figure who wore a form of pale flesh and orange fur. The majority of the latter formed a fluffy tail that served no immediately discernible purpose. There were too many things wearing skin. I wasn't sure yet how to differentiate them beyond focusing on whatever else they decorated their bodies with. She would be fluffy tail girl in my mind until she distinguished herself otherwise.

"We're not in trouble." She said, her words carefully measured out and savored. "The faculty just needed to see what we were like in a normal classroom environment. I imagine they are attempting to figure out how best to address our needs." I half expected her to serve her words with tea and a smile. She reminded me of the professor from the classroom I'd been banished from before this one. Her eyes swiveled to meet mine as she offered up an almost predatory grin. Was it her actions matching my thoughts that caused me to describe her dull grey eyes as having a suspicious lack of color? Eyes tended to be another feature that give so much insight about their owner, but not with this one.

I did not trust her. Not that I was feeling particularly charitable. This was not my place and these were not my people. Never mind the way she spoke gave the impression that she took enjoyment out of revealing her insights. No one here had a voice of thunder that shook the walls of feeble structures made by feebler hands. Too much attention devoted to my surroundings caused my body of sand to again threaten losing its consistency. If I was stuck walking among these entities that wore flesh to avoid offending one another, I needed to learn how they felt so comfortable maintaining a fixed shape. The swarm of bugs didn't seem to be having any trouble moving with something approximating arms and legs. It struck me as inefficient, even if she was the best role model I had encountered.

"Are you okay in there?" Asked the voice in the heart of the swarm. "Do you have any preferred way of being addressed?" It struck me that the voice was even meeker than most.

"Vessel. Just call me Vessel." I ignored the deepening grin of the fur-tailed individual and turned to find every single pair of insect eyes upon me. It wasn't alarming. Finding the Core of an individual Storm was something that came naturally. I just had to replace the grandiose expanse that comprised a Storm with hundreds of buzzing insects with wings. Basically a storm, except one of harmless insects that couldn't shout apart anything if they all screamed in unison. More was expected of me, but I had not yet decided how to answer the second component of this exchange. "I go by they or them. I mean, I guess." Something to be revisited at a later date.

"I see. I go by Whisper! Regardless of trappings, I hope you're comfortable perceiving me as she and her." The ruby red core at the heart of the swarm spoke with what I found to be an alarming amount of earnest energy for one so quiet. "It is a pleasure to meet you!" There were so many red eyes, but the ones that were truly hers were unmistakable. Too large and focused, eager to take in the world around her.

"Yeah." I drew out the word. Seeing her shifting shroud of insects reminded me how uncomfortable I was in this prison of sand. The more I thought about it, being inside an enclosed space was likely compounding my discomfort. I wasn't sure if I missed flying, but not being able to see the sky or ocean felt wrong.

"Please stop me if this is none of my business." Whisper and I turned to face the suspicious girl in the back of the room. Her tail had come to rest in her lap, with hands buried in the fur. The position was devoid of any meaning to me, but those colorless eyes seemed intent on something.

Against my better judgement, I inclined my head. If nothing else I wanted to know more. This was allegedly a room of trouble makers. Maybe one of them was worth knowing.

"You're, really, not from around here, are you?"

"No," I said. No need for me to give away any more than that. Whisper's bugs shifted and buzzed. Discomfort with the line of questioning? I focused on raising and maintaining a still hand to assure her it was fine. A part of me wanted to know where this was even was coming from.

"You have already dodged a question asking whether or not you're okay. I'll respect it." She said, offering a placating gesture of her own.

"I appreciate that."

"I just wanted to point out that Vessel, how do I put this delicately? It isn't much of a name." Again, that self-satisfied pacing of a delivery. I was tempted to interrupt her. She left me ample opening before continuing. "It's like calling yourself a Core."

"What's wrong with that?" It was accurate, but none the less some thunderous part within me grew heated at the accusation. I lamented that there were parts inside of me I could not control. Worse still the thought that I might lose those parts forever if I let them escape my grasp.

She shook her head, although the buzzing to my side made a concerned enough noise that I spared a look in her direction. Whisper's withdrawing red eyes suggested she didn't want to interject. I gave her an eye roll and an encouraging wave of the hand.

"She has a point." Her words were barely louder than a whisper. "There are elements in naming that carry weight. A good name can... um, make it easier."

"What? Why does that work?" My whole form hardened with frustration. "Or rather, how does that work?"

"Typically. Um. Whoever created you will help you realize this." The way her entire shroud of insects withdrew from me told me she could sense my likely reaction. I could feel the storm clouds tucked inside of me wanting to lash out at this. But I could not control that part of me so much as pack sand around the growing moisture and heat. The water at least mixed to make my inner layers more malleable.

"Picking a name is important." Back to the annoyingly observant girl with the fluffy tail. "It was odd to me with eyes as striking as yours that you'd choose so simple a name and adorn yourself in sand." She drew the full weight of my electric stare, then had the audacity to show off a mouth full of sharp teeth. "I think someone needed to call you out on it."

"So now it's my eyes that are giving me away?" The two shared a look. That was meant to be a jab at her, but I was starting to actually feel like an outsider here. "Fine. Yes. I washed up on the shore a few days ago. I pulled together a body of sand and stumbled my way here." A small distant thunder sounded within me. The Storm still reacted to my emotions. I could work with that. "I don't have the foggiest idea what you think a parent that can fly a whole world away from me at a whim would have to teach me. So I'm here, until a better path forward presents itself." My chest lit up as lightning crackled deep within my sand casing. "So there. Are you satisfied?"

Silence.

The girl with the furry tail was the first to break the silence.

"Well, Vessel. So long as the name is keeping you together, it is good enough for me. I apologize for the artifice in my conduct." She rose and navigated the cluttered chairs and desks that filled the room with a grace I could almost be enviable of. She held out what struck me as a delicately crafted hand. "Amari is the name I have chosen for myself. It is the name of my mother, and her mother before her. If you'll forgive the way I've conducted myself, I think I can help you."

I took her hand. She squeezed mine. It was a gentle gesture.

When I withdrew my hand, I felt a sense of wholeness that wasn't there before. Not a single grain of sand was lost in the exchange. I wasn't sure I liked being seen and acknowledged. Maybe I could get used to it, given time.

A door to the classroom opened. We all turned to face the new arrival, Verity.

The storm that had been quieting down within me returned with a thirst for vengeance.

I closed the distance in the span of a few thunderous heartbeats.