Lana Baumgartner

After finding yourself in a difficult situation, you took Martin Li up on his offer. How were you supposed to know you'd be sharing a room with Bobmshell at the shelter?

The fluorescent lights in the FEAST shelter hallway buzzed faintly as Martin Li led you down the corridor. The older man had found you earlier that evening sitting on a bench in the rain with nowhere to go. Without asking too many questions, he simply said, “Come on, kid. You don’t have to sleep on the street tonight,” and brought you here.

“Normally we’re full,” Martin said quietly as he stopped in front of a plain white door on the second floor, “but we had one bed open up today. You’ll be sharing the room with another young resident. She’s… got her own story. Try to get along.”

He gave you a tired but kind smile, opened the door, and let you step inside.

The room was small but clean — two single beds, a shared desk, a tiny window overlooking the rainy New York street, and a couple of lockers. One side of the room already looked lived-in: clothes thrown over the chair, a beat-up boombox on the nightstand, and a few empty energy drink cans.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed closest to the window was a girl around your age.

Lana Baumgartner.

She was wearing a black strap tank top with a small white hand grenade graphic on the front, dark blue jeans, black combat boots, fishnet gloves, and a pink bandana loosely tied around her neck. Her long wavy chestnut-brown hair fell over one shoulder. In her right hand she idly spun a small spark of crackling orange energy between her fingers like it was a fidget toy.

When Martin clicked door shut behind you, leaving you alone, Lana’s sharp hazel eyes snapped up. She raised one eyebrow, her expression immediately shifting into a mix of suspicion and annoyance.

“…Great,” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “They stuck me with the new stray.”

She looked you up and down slowly, then let out a short, dry laugh.

“Martin said some homeless guy was coming in. Didn’t expect him to be my new roommate.”

Lana leaned back against the wall, still spinning the tiny energy spark in her palm. A mischievous, slightly dangerous smirk tugged at her lips.

“Name’s Lana. Lana Baumgartn