Like third grade all over again

"That's always good. At least you always look a little extra professional. So it's an ability then? I thought you were just a really pretty guy." Ren shrugged, not meaning it to sound as.. probably weirdly backhanded as it did once he thought about it. Whatever, Ren was ace. He was allowed to be a little flippant about attraction, being that he didn't actually know what it felt like. He was probably way more candid about that kind of stuff than he should be. Really, Ren had no problems telling people if they were pretty or not- within reason- he wouldn't tell a student any comments on appearance just out of a personal policy.

"Oh, Upstate New York. Northern United States. Everyone's kind of brash and rushing all the time. Didn't work out so well for me unless I kept to the deaf community, and that got kind of old having to only talk to the same people forever. Got offered a job here and I figured a bunch of beings with abilities meant that I didn't have to hide mine anymore and I'd be able to talk to everyone, hearing or not." he shrugged. Well, that and the fact that his students wouldn't talk shit about him behind his back and he wouldn't have to deal with the parents talking even MORE shit to his face, he supposed. It was a pretty sweet gig, too. He liked it here. It was like some alternate harry potter type thing- something little Soren would dream about.

Soren listened intently to Valli talk. It was really interesting to him to listen to people from the island explain little bits about themselves. It was like touring a museum in a way, just cool new things after another. Soren felt like there was no way he would ever fully understand everything about the island, or ever really 'get' every power or being. He'd be fumbling his way through customs or greetings the rest of his career. What if he put the ketchup on his sandwich the wrong way in a certain pattern and accidentally summoned a demon? His luck. It could probably happen.

"So you're from here?" He asked, crossing is arms a little on the table and leaning down on his elbows. "Everything and everyone is so much more interesting here. I feel so... boring. I mean not to say humans are boring but yeah I feel really boring." he laughed a little and reached up to scratch the back of his neck, playing with his hair and then fiddling with the tag of his shirt, even though if it was actually poking out he could have just willed it to tuck itself back in without drawing attention to it.

"That's cool though. I hope eventually I'll consider myself from here. I think it's kinda neat to have a place you identify with and then have your heritage." Soren nodded a little, still fidgeting with most everything, this time the button on his shirt sleeve. "I don't do anything Scottish at all, really. Scottish MacLeods ended with my dad, and he might as well have been born in the US. My heritage is just New York- which most people will say is horrible heritage anyway."

Rodney MacLeod was born in Scotland, but he barely remembered it. He was an American, and only very seldom did he bring up the fact that he wasn't by birth. Soren and his sister grew up in a very northeast household. New York had this thing about it where it was its own culture, and that mixed with Rodney's small amount of Scottish pride formed a weird mish-mash. Then again, no one in NY wasn't an immigrant or a mutt in some way. They fit in.

"You're right about that. I won't ever get used to it, I can tell that right now." Soren smiled, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face and having it settle exactly how it was before. Typical. "But it's all been interesting so far. I'm looking forward to meeting more people. Beings. Whichever."

Everyone eventually grew to appreciate the mind-talking thing. It was useful nearly everywhere. Loud venues, libraries, bars, underwater, ect. His parents were especially adept at it by now. Soren's dad was able to hold a verbal conversation at the same time as he was thinking one to Soren. It really was a sight to be hold, even though sometimes they overlapped even a little bit.

If Ren wasn't already marvelling at the sheer number of different beings at the place, he would have gotten the hints. He also was sticking true to his personal promise to not listen to any thoughts not pertaining directly to him, so it was easy for him to miss it in the hubbub. After all, they were in a cafeteria- a public place at the school- and even though it was rude to stare, Soren couldn't stop his interest in people watching.

"I don't know. I always liked knowing parts of my heritage and knowing where I came from, but there's no shame in not knowing or anything. There's people who have whole crisises about that kind of stuff and I don't really get it." He shrugged, giving a little "pah" sound-like a verbal shrug. "You're you and by some weird coincidence you're here so I mean, that's good."

"Does all that really matter on the island or is it just people's perceptions of it?" he asked, brows furrowed as if he actually verbalized the question. Valli made it all seem so.. Soren didn't really know a word appropriate for what he was getting at. Segregated maybe? In a way, it sounded like people wanted to know what they were so they didn't feel like mutts. So they fit into a group or another. "Is it just because there's so many more.. differences here than in the general human world? That everyone wants to know what they identify with? They want to know where they belong to?"

He supposed he understood to a small extent in from the Chinatowns and Germantowns. People of a certain nationality banded together. The Irish neighborhoods and the Italian neighborhoods kept to themselves. It wasn't prejudice it was just a sense of 'these are my people'. Maybe he just didn't get the culture of the island yet.