Mischa's alarm sounded, loud and shrill. She slammed her hand on it, turning the sound off but trapping the device in an ice cube. Dammit, she thought, running her pale hand over the ice cube. The ice immediately melted away, leaving her alarm clock intact but slightly damp. Before she could freeze anything else, Mischa picked up her dove gray gloves from her bedside table and slid them on. The insides of the gloves were immediately coated in a thin layer of frost, securing them to her hands. Mischa stood up and walked across the room to her wardrobe, tracking footprints of fine snow over her pale gray carpet. Mischa dressed in an ice blue pair of skinny jeans, a flowy white shirt with long sleeves and pale gray high heels. She pulled her blonde curls into a high ponytail. Mischa checked the weather forecast for her school; it would be snowing today. Everyone else would be freezing cold, but Mischa would be right in her element. Mischa grabbed her backpack and descended the stairs. She looked out of all the windows she passed; if it would be snowing in America, the landscapes of her Russian home were frozen solid. [BCOLOR=#808080]"Hey, Mish,"[/BCOLOR] said her brother, Paul, as she entered the kitchen. He was alone, eating cereal. "Hey, Paul," said Mischa. Her Russian accent was a lot softer than his. "Are Mum and Dad still asleep?" [BCOLOR=#808080]"Yeah. They said to tell you to just go to school,"[/BCOLOR] said Paul. Mischa grabbed an apple from the fruitbowl, said goodbye to her brother and stepped outside into the violent snowsnorm. Mischa, of course, could create something a thousand times worse than the harsh weather, so she was not fazed. Her portal to school stood in the back shed. She stepped through the portal and emerged in school. Like the weather had promised, the school was covered in snow, though a lot calmer than in Russia. Mischa took her usual seat on the edge of the fountain -- the water had frozen solid -- and proceeded to wait for Mattie. Isaac, dressed in his regular outfit of sharp black leather, stepped through the portal in his foster home, the home of the representative who had taken him from the orphanage in Britain, into the school. Aurora Nova was covered in snow, which would have caused many other students joy and excitement but just made Isaac fret wet socks. Glad his boots were so thick, Isaac tugged his jacket closer to his body and hurried in the general direction of the library. Isaac sighted Mischa, the ice girl, sitting on the fountain in a thin outfit that probably would have caused any other person to contract hypothermia. Weird, he thought. The library was warm and deserted. Feeling the heavy weight of the cold leave his body, Isaac sighed in relief and crossed to the mystery shelf. He searched for a novel. Love dressed in dark purple skinny jeans, thick boots with fluff on the inside, a long-sleeve black shirt and a thick, woolly sweater. She knew the outfit would not be enough to shield her from the cold, but she would just have to make do. Love, growing up in Australia, was not used to the cold much; she lived in the part of the country where it barely ever rained, the ground was cracked from the scorching sun and not having a sunburn or tan was very rare. Love sighed, fluffed her hair out so it covered the back of her neck and slipped on a scarf. She pulled out her phone and composed a text to Terry. HEY, MEET ME IN THE LIBRARY AT SCHOOL. I'M GOING TO DIE OF HYPOTHERMIA. Love stepped through her portal, which was in her bedroom, and was hit in the face with a wave of cold. I am going to die, she thought, hurrying to the library. She stepped inside and hurried to the corner where she usually sat with Terry. Lewis threw on the first clothes he found in his wardrobe. He had never been one to give a shit about how he looked. Not even bothering with his hair, Lewis quietly walked out of his house, careful to not wake his mother, and stepped through his portal in the backyard. The weather hit Lewis, but as he had grown up in Germany, where it could get quite cold, he did not suffer as much as some of the students he passed. He took out his phone and sent a text to Angelo: HEY, COULD YOU HURRY UP AND GET HERE? HOMEROOM STARTS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES AND YOU ARE NOT HERE. Ivy had been at school for half an hour already. She had no interest in hanging around at her foster home, where her caretaker tried to stamp the negative feelings and affinities out of her. Where her caretaker tried to make her a good girl. Stepping into the library, Ivy wondered if she was the only student who actually wore her super costume to school, minus the mask. Granted, her own costume was reasonably less slutty than most of the other girls'. In fact, her own outfit could probably be classed as a casual outfit. But they were at Super school, right? You'd think more people would wear their costumes.