It had started with a headache and a sky full of stars, it had drove into his head like a hammer and it had left that memory clean. A night sky and a bundle of dandelions sprouting beneath his palms. It was normal for these guys or that's sort of what he'd been told, this place was a haven, it was safe here, it wasn't [i]home.[/i] Home was Manhattan, home was the air that reeked of car exhaust and the sound of alarms blaring through his window each night. Home was very far away, home was nothing but a color-drained, stonewashed, smoky framed memory. Home hadn't even been that great, though he'd never felt so isolated in a place as he had felt in Pavar. It was easy to become lost in Manhattan, it was easy enough to find a place to hide away but Pavar had been small and he had felt trapped.

Trapped was a good word for how he constantly felt, he didn't know where he wanted to be but he knew it wasn't here. There was something that made his skin crawl about the powers in general, it confused him first off, he still didn't get why flowers rose to meet him and he still didn't get why he could make trees bend towards his will. He didn't get why he'd been chosen for whatever this was and it made him miss New York. If he had been in that apartment in Manhattan then he never would have wandered into the darkness with his headache and he never would have rolled around in the grass like an idiot and he never would have uncovered the power at all. At least that's what he figured. It wasn't sound logic. Any excuse to defend Manhattan was a good excuse.

He wasn't ever going to get over anything, that much was blatantly clear.

The day started with another type of headache, but the sky wasn't full of stars and he wasn't driven by some imaginary force to go outside. There weren't any dandelions and there wasn't crippling fear of the unknown. Just another day at the weird academy for messed up super kids. He had been up most of the night, caught up in the aimless task of plotting natal charts until around four a.m. He was tired, he always woke up tired, it was as if he never really slept at all. It was kind of his own fault though he wouldn't admit it if you begged him to. Drained, he would often snap at people upon waking up but there didn't seem to be anybody to snap at right this moment. 

He'd slept in, he was always trying to sleep in and he'd finally managed to knock out a few daylight hours. Normally he would have woken around nine and he would have thrown a minor fit about how exhausted he was but he'd managed a good lot of sleeping today. It looked like he had almost lost the entire day. Groggily, the boy had risen and dressed for the day though he'd done it all in a tired haze. His hair was a rumpled mess and he was pretty sure that he smelled a little sweaty but he wasn't in the mood for a late shower and he lumbered out of his room with a pen still tucked behind his ear.

He was hungry, exceptionally ravenous and he could have eaten just about anything that was offered to him at this moment. He knew he could grab something in the mess hall and that's where everything seemed to be right now. He could hear the low murmur of voices before he entered and he barely took notice of them in his sleepy stupor, should anyone have approached him then he might have snapped at them as his ritual demanded. He grabbed an apple before finally scanning the room. The first sight was very glaringly obvious and he couldn't have overlooked it even if he wasn't half asleep.

[i][color=f6989d]New people. Wonder where they dug those poor scraps up?[/color][/i]

He realized very quickly that he was standing there clutching an apple and staring at them blankly. He exhaled in a long yawn and arched his spine, rocking onto his tiptoes for a moment and dropping back down. The whole process took a lot longer than it should have but he was feeling a little more awake after it. Biting into the apple slowly, he chewed as he approached the table and sunk into a seat near Delta. He could hear the redhead seemingly talking a mile a minute about his parents and he felt a slight pang in his chest at the thought of his own father. He sometimes missed waking up to the smell of buttermilk pancakes and cinnamon, the smell of coffee and the sound of an old country station crooning on the stereo. 

For his credit, he managed to keep his mouth shut for most of the time the redhead seemed to spitting out words. For his credit, he just drew in a breath and glanced to Delta. He didn't feel too temperamental today, there wasn't a reason to get snippy with anyone so he kept his tone relatively friendly. It didn't quite match up to the constant look of petulance about him.

"[color=f6989d]Hello, Delta. Hello, you and you, whoever you are.[/color]" he said, "[color=f6989d]I'm Theodore. I apologize for the interruption.[/color]"