A/N: Hello. This is a quick introduction to my babies: two super-powered-not-entirely-human best friends, one of which is a personna of me and one who I've stolen my name from. Please don't steal my babies. I made them myself. If you want to use my children, ask. I have realized there is a comment section, so this makes this easier. Just ask. I'll tell you if you can use them if you tell me which one(s) you want, and what you will use them for (art: tell me of what, writing: tell me a plot summary). You do not have free range to steal them, sorry. Now that that unpleasantness is over with, let's continue with the second part of this story! . At lunch, both girls sat down together. Marie seemed determined not to talk first, and stayed quiet, concentrating exclusively on her food. Finally, Kit blurted out, “I'm not a Magic Hunter if that's what you're so paranoid about.” “I'm not paranoid,” she retorted quickly. “I've just never had this conversation with anyone before.” Kit blinked. “Not even with your parents?” “I'm adopted.” “Oh.” Kit found an interesting spot on her jeans. “I only found out I'm a dragonling a couple weeks ago.” “I've known a while. My birth parents wrote a letter to me explaining who I was and what it meant. How'd you find out?” “Strange story actually. My dad had been discovered by Magic Hunters two years ago. He escaped and wiped my mom's and my memories . Couple weeks ago, he gets his brother to scare me half to hell by grabbing me on my way home from school and slipping me a memory potion and a note. Read the note, downed the potion in a convenience store bathroom, broke down, then went to rendezvous with him and my mom. She still has no idea what we are.” “Well, that's pretty sudden,” Marie said. “Yeah,” Kit agreed. “So I'm a dragonling. What are you?” “I'm a psychometric. I can touch stuff and tell what their owner is feeling and thinking. I try to take something from everyone I would need to know. I just touched your pencil by accident, but it still gave my something. Sometimes I can tell the past and future of the object, not the person. I even can get impressions from my own things. I just saw your pencil marking down twelve as wrong, and I changed that. I was pretty sure you were embarrassed by your grip on it, so I assumed you had been called upon and gave the wrong answer. I never get anything off living things, though I've been trying to work on that for a while.” “Huh. That's cool. I literally can't do anything special until I have my first shift, except getting myself killed by touching metal bare-skinned.” “Woah,” the Asian gasped. “So it's poisonous?” “Sort of. It's a deadly allergy, but only if the metal is pure. Anything else will stun me so bad I might go comatose for a while depending on its purity. That's why I have no bling, and own nothing metal except my music.” They both giggled. “So now I have a friend who understands the struggle,” Marie almost whispered, Kit barely hearing her over the bedlam in the rest of the high school cafeteria. “We both do,” The redhead agreed as she grasped Marie's hands hand held them between her own.