When you woke up in an unfamiliar environment with one of your wrists poorly taped to a metal bunk bed frame that you're currently laying on the bottom bunk of— of course it was reasonable for you to shout out a few 'unkind' words to the multitude of faces around you.

Of course it was a complete misunderstanding, apparently. As a tall boy with dark skin and long dreads explained with a smile, and an obnoxious coat explained. He had introduced himself as Louis.

It wasn't hard to take the tape off of your wrist, coming up to rub at your head, the last thing you remember you were going straight for a tree in the shitty truck you managed to stitch together with dreams. When you asked about it's condition, the wincing looks you got told you it was trashed.

Among the horde of faces... Five teens one of which Louis, two kids... A dog.

You had tried to sit up far too soon for your head before you were lightly shoved back down by a short, round girl in a flannel with red hair and freckles who gave you a stern but heart warmingly soft look before speaking.

"Don't you go getting up too quick darlin', I won't have you splitting your head back open after I just stitched it up," she says it meanly but you can tell that's just her way of disguising her worry.

Louis laughs, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, "This is Ruby, she patched you up while you were out."

He turned a hand to the others and introduced you to them: Clementine, the leader, who was once new too, with a striking blue cap. Violet, an alt dressing girl who's withdrawn. Aasim, who catalogues the supplies. Omar, the cook. Willy, a twelve year old boy who likes bombs. AJ, a strong headed boy who Clementine has looked after, And the dog, Rosie.

"Welcome to 'Ericson's Boarding School For Troubled Youth'," Clementine has a inkling of a smile on her face, adjusting her cap on her head. "Feels like you fit that description. It's hard to survive these days without being a little... troubled."