Their quick registration was in "Education", and their chatter and discussion was only too eager to hint that path. A skater nearby quicky lost his baggy pants and wife-beater to a morphed pencil skirt and blouse. A ruffian lost his piercings and hardened abs as he listened in, gaining neatly bobbed hair, delicate arms for instructing and a love of knowledge and teaching. The mindset followed to a close art student, who wanted to paint originally but now thought nothing of it but wanting to teach fingerpaints and craft projects to eager children, their rebellious streak gone as they folded their neat skirt nicely and their hands into their lap, letting themselves be brainwashed into a kindly, polite and school-obsessed educator, giving little thought to anything else but how anxious they were to be in a classroom, pining to stand and speak in front of students, and make other nice dutiful teachers as well. They kept many thoughts, beliefs, and differing passions about themselves,but simply transferred them into the flow of their new identity as teachers gracefully and naturally. This sort of gradual and process carried on throughout the campus, recreating whole lifes, like-minded personas and individuals out of the passerbys, each wanting to teach and share their joyful mindset in their own way.
In contrast, Ms. Olive was desperate to spread her numbers and professionalism throughout. "Must save child. Spread self. Make more Olives. Stop teachers. Save child." Were the mindsets of the 8th+ Generation convertees, drained of most power and left as barely-thinking, half-competent robotic drones crafted into Miss Olive's near exact image.
