[b][i]Present Day[/i][/b]

[b][i]The Millard Fillmore Academy for the Arts[/i][/b]

Getting one's friend to build you an Air Cannon was the easy part; one can tutor him in both Music and Non-Musical Subjects. Finding out one was able to use the Air Cannon like a pro, was the hard part; hard not because of any present difficulty, but because this increased your suspicions that one's skills were not normal. Using said cannon to launch cupcakes at another student, meanwhile, was awesome, especially when said student was a good sport and just ate the cupcakes; at least, some of them.

Then, there was expressing (not feigning, expressing!) interest in some other students' pottery and sculpture works, and finding out that one was able to use a potter's wheel and sculptor's hammer and chiesel well, although the works one turned out were pretty generic. Oh, and one also found out you can use paintbrushes well. One being Cedeic Wessex, genius, who, whenever he touched a tool or instrument, recieved a feeling of...adeptness at its use.

Cedric Wessex, like a certain fictional boy genius, was young enough to believe in Magic (or the Paranormal), but smart enough to deduce the ramifications of its existence within him. He knew that this...gift, though potentially personally profitable, would just inspire the fear of those who were afraid of those not like them, the avarice of those who wanted to use such gifts for themselves or a cause, or even both sorts of people. Therefore, it was imperative to keep things a secret.

Not that testing out an air cannon, as well as other artistic tools, would help in keeping one's gift a secret. Nevertheless, one had to find out that said gift existed before making the decision to keep it secret in the first place. Oh, and the boy experimented with making various shivs out of 'missing' items in the past few days...and found out that he was able to hold them like a pro; same for the Swiss Army Knife he used to make the shivs.

C-R-A-P, crap. The boy was not normal, and thus, he knew that, one day, the Government will hunt him down, either to do experiments on him, turn him into a child soldier, or both. There might also be episodes of forced nudity, torture, and abuse, perhaps sexual; the boy knew that his body was most appealing to potential rapists. That's why he talked the teachers into letting him carry a can of pepper spray just in case the older students...gyah, he was afraid.

Cedric Wessex knew how it was to be scared [i]a lot[/i]. He was scared when a garter snake appeared in his backyard. He was scared of horror movies. He was scared of more adult things like being deprived of your rights because you were of the wrong ethnicity, social class, religion, or sexual orientation (he was white, middle-class, and straight <He wasn't>, thankfully for him), as well as the staggering amount of sexual abuse cases found in America.

Yes, the boy was obsessed with rape and sexual abuse; he was a hormonal teenager as well as a genius, after all. That didn't mean that he was [i]completely[/i] irrational, as his phobia did have a somewhat-reasonable foundation - he can cite the appropiate statistics. All he knew now, was, that if the Government came for him, he would have no choice but to surrender to them or face the dangers of fighting his own country.

And if his own country wanted to treat him like the terrorists [i]and[/i] innocent civilians found in Abu Gharib and Guatemano, well, he would have to submit to [i]that[/i] treatment, even if he was afraid. However, nothing said that his country had to find him, of course. And that was where his 'paranormal gift' came in. With computers, he can create dummy accounts that he can access from internet cafes (yes, he had money; he won several prizes in several shows)...

...And with a shovel and other tools, he can dig a secret tunnel out of the Academy. After all, he liked the staff and the other students, but he didn't like being shoehorned into musical instruments. He wanted to pursue his real loves, dangit! Anyway, the boy's Air Cannon can also be loaded with nails and other stuff, like his shivs, but this was a last resort, and probably counterproductive as it would get him marked as a terrorist.

Anyway, Cedric, at present, was listening to a lecture on Music Theory; it was facsinating, even though the subject itself was marred by people who believed it was another way of 'Measuring the Marigolds', which it is not. Anyway, though, the boy was multi-tasking; while he absorbed the lecture, he was also bringing up Tv.Tropes' So You Are A Teenager With Superpowers' guide**, which was an awesome thing to read.  

((*[url]http://www.instructables.com/id/How-To-Build-a-Generic-Air-Cannon/[/url]))

((**[url]http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/JustForFun/SoYouAreATeenagerWithSuperpowers[/url]))

======

Where did Cedric Wessex's paranoia about being, well, abused come from? He came from a happy, ordinary home, was raised in happy, extraordinary circumstances, and didn't know anyone who had been subjected to the traumas he now feared. True, he was curious about the world, but surely, like most people, he won't be afraid that the bad things he saw on screen would happen to him, right? Those were for other people, right?

Well, let's just say this: Cedric's umm...phobia came from the most unepected of circumstances - shitty fanfic. Or rather, shitty pornographic fanfic. A long time ago, when he was eight, he went looking for LotR fanfiction, and instead, found 'The Pride of Boromir'*, a fic which involved the titular character being raped, at the age of ten, by his father Denethor, who was subject to character derailment. Said fanfic also involved Aragorn spanking the now-adult Boromir...

...without his consent, and, well, let's just say that this fic was like a trainwreck, and it left an impression upon the 11-year old. Especially when he grew curious and decided to see if this sort of fanfiction was common. It was; the next fanfic he saw was set in Axis Powers Hetalia (a show he didn't watch, but heard about), in which an Original Character who was supposed to be The Netherlands raped the Nation-tan of Sealand (who was physically 12)**.

The boy, now stricken with morbid curiosity, began looking for more bad fanfiction, and was directed to a rant by another fanfic author detailing how 'rape culture' permeates fanfiction and how fanfic writers should be ashamed of themselves. Being curious about 'rape culture', Cedric looked it up...and was terrified by the thought that someone could blame a [i]victim[/i] for his or her rape. With rape culture also came looking for rape statistics, and the results were even more horrifying.

Rape was [i]everywhere[/i], and the usual sterotypes were wrong. The primary practitioners of rape weren't strangers in dark alleys, but rather family members and [i]friends[/i]. Even the Army wasn't safe, as it turned out that the higher-ups actually aided and abetted the rape of female soldiers, not to mention the rape of male and female prisoners in...certain facilities. Also, it might just be paranoia speaking, but, well, Cedric could see the way some of his friends looked at him...

The boy was aware that his behavior might be seen as paranoid and neurotic, but, still, there was no harm in defending oneself, or learning how to do so. Not merely that, but now that he knew he had powers, perhaps what seemed impossible was now possible; perhaps he [i]would[/i] be taken to some dark facility to live out the rest of his life as a [i]thing[/i], either a child soldier, test subject, or both who also spent some extra time as a sex object.

Which was why, in the dark of night, he had to escape, and it was the dark of night at present. The boy was now at the back of the school, behind a dumpster, clad in tough jeans and a sturdy woolen shirt, digging with a shovel. With said shovel's help, he would escape from Millard Fillmore School for the Arts, and, and...

What was he doing? He can't abandone his home, and surely he can't sever himself from his family, just out of fear that something might happen! But, at the same time, he had to, because he had powers that made him a freak, and if anyone found out, his life, as he knew it, was going to be over! 

At least, this way, he can maintain some measure of happiness, even if it was a life on the run. Yeah, with his talents, he can forge a new life in Latin America, perhaps Bolivia and Brazil, or maybe Cuba; he hated the Castro regime, but knew that they would at least keep him safe from those who wanted to use him...

((*The fic actually exists IRL, but I'm not linking to it in order to spare your brains.))

((**This fanfic also exists, but again, I'm not linking to it.))

======

Cedric ran out from the tunnel, his shirt and jeans muddied by the disturbed soil. A large rucksack was slung across his back, heavy with necessities. Now to implement the next part of his escape plan; get as far away from the Academy as possible. Thankfully, his clothes, thanks to their make and the mud, looked just like the clothes of the hundreds of homeless kids in the city. Not that his plan was to mingle with said homeless kids; that would just get him involved in gang activity, or worse.

The next few hours would be occupied with walking and crawling through the streets of the city, avoiding guards and stray animals, crossing roads whenever traffic seemed to lighten, and, when he was sure there were no rapists, ducking into dark alleys and taking shortcuts; trying to randomize his direction, so that any pursuers he might have would be confused as well. Then, the boy took advantage of a public restroom to change his clothes and clean himself up, and...

...And climb out the window. For, this time, he had another plan; catch one of the public trains. With his small size, as well as wads of cash, he would surely be able to get to one that would bring him out of the city. If need be, he could just say that one of the nearby people was his parent, or aunt, and that she's sending him to buy tickets. Yeah, that plan would work. He'll go to Bangor, Maine, and from there, take a plane to Canada, then Cuba.

[B][I]Some Hours Later[/i][/b]

He couldn't help it; he blew some of his hard-earned money on a First-Class seat. True, riding Economy would have been better for secrecy, but, the boy was in the midst of an adrenaline surge right now; he was free, he was independent, and, furthermore, he had a lot of money to spend! Not merely that, but the Economy class seats might have the occasional pickpocket or even kidnapper; he was not the only one who knew the obsfucating qualities of riding Economy...