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“He’s… an awakened.”

With a startled snort, Peter Grey awoke, his eyes snapping open as the daylight dripping through the half closed shutter immediately assaulted his eyes. 

Letting out a pained sigh Peter made a halfhearted attempt to sit up as he took note of his surroundings. His bed was bare with the cover laid out on the floor and his room was its usual state with clothes littering the dressers and carpet along with the lamp missing its shade and a whole treasure trove of crap clogging up his wardrobe, so long as he didn’t break anything the academy owned he didn’t have to pay anything back on his dorm room. That didn’t mean he couldn’t leave it looking like ground zero though.

Peter rubbed his eyes once more and blinked twice. 

[i]’That dream…[/i]

He’d been having these weird moments on and off for a while, bouts of paranoia or gnawing feelings that seemed to claw up against the back of his head. But frankly all of that was the least of his worries, Peter had powers, as in honest to god “The-Human-Body-Is-Physically-Incapable-Of-That” powers.

After Hagan left Peter made good on his idea and opened up any exits he could find, which wasn’t much as by the time he and Hagan had finished arguing people had either broken through themselves or simply hadn’t made it. Even still Peter loitered around the Mill for some time after. He didn’t see anyone leave.

Eventually, as is custom when calling them, the police showed up, most attending to the student who had simply broken down and cried in the middle of the road, Peter had passed a few on his way, a few were either cased in soot, or blood. Peter tried his best not to make eye contact with them. Not wanting to be one of the few coherent enough for the laundry list of questions they’d have for him after an ordeal like this, Pete fled through the woods. His speed picked up and yet another nasty crash into the foliage awaited him. 

[i]’What the hell is happening to me…[/i] Peter remembered thinking as a small smile escaped from his lips before going back to exhaustion. Finally, he stood up and got off his bed, shambling towards his bathroom where he stared at his disheveled face in the mirror.

Grunting in frustration Petere focused on his eyes as the bags underneath them would be quite difficult to conceal, he considered wearing shades before shaking his head and deciding to just bare with it for the time being. He opened up the door to the medicine cabinet and thankfully the mirror the rested on the front disappeared. Peter pulled out a small white bottle and shook out two pills onto his open hand, he quickly threw them into his mouth and swallowed immediately with a slight cough, the pills were tasteless but they never went down easy.

As he walked back into his room Peter took the time to look down at the new “tattoo” he’d acquired, chances were his mom would kill him if she knew about it and the rest of his family already thought he was some kind of punk so Peter had been hoping it might just go away by itself but as currently proven, no such luck. With a frown he took a wristband off the top of his dresser and slid it over the offending symbol, then moved on to trying to scrounge up some clean clothes from the less cluttered side of his wardrobe.

As Peter slid on his shoes he buried his face into his hands and let out a yawn, It’d been a week since that massacre and the way it seemed to weigh everyone, Peter included, had been exhausting. That seemed to be the thing with tragedies like that, it seems to be all everyone wants to talk about but most can never find the words, when they do it’s either to callously gossip or it just comes across as something akin to talking about the weather.

[i]’Man fuck this.[/i] Peter said rubbing his eyes. He’d been training his new “gift” of speed when he could at the abandoned fields but it was exhausting work, he was hardly going to start studying so if he wanted to do something worthwhile with his time he needed to perk up. He needed caffeine. Well, that or cocaine but Pete wasn’t really into that scene.

[hr][color=LightSeaGreen][b]Cafe la Sucre.[/b][/color][hr]

The sun was still more or less out and pissing Peter off as he shuffled ungracefully towards the cafe. He still looked messy and unkempt but tidied himself up enough where it wasn’t really too dissimilar to how he normally appeared, that said his tiredness was making it quite difficult to put on the air of casual happiness that he usually presented himself with, the last thing he wanted was have someone corner him on if he was feeling okay.

As he neared the establishment Peter was sure he’d seen Hagan, whether he was right or not was irrelevant, just the possibility brought a frown to his face and he kept his eyes straight. Hagan had always been a bully and a pain in the ass but Peter had never had any issues with him, the night at the mill however had soured any sympathy or positivity Peter had felt towards him. It was most likely projection for how useless himself Peter had felt in that incident but he was hardly going to act like Hagan was anything more than a stranger to him. 

Peter closed towards the entrance and came across Samson with Claire not too far behind, he swore slightly under his breath, he didn’t know either very well, more or less by reputation alone but he himself was aware reputations are typically bullshit. Still he wasn’t really in the mood to risk any stilted conversations, he kept his head down and averted both of their gazes. As he did so however Peter was sure he saw or [i]felt[/i] something. Something not exactly normal. Regardless he made it to the entrance of the cafe safe and sound.

With a jingle from the door he entered and the faint smell of coffee from outside turned into a full on battery. Peter wasn’t really much of a drinker but something about the smell was really off putting, even still he braved the bitter aroma and made his way towards the counter, as he did so he found himself next to Dexter, someone else he knew only slightly well. He’d seen him and Ryu together a lot so was surprised to find himself alone, while they’d never shared much conversation Dex had always struck Peter as a pretty nice guy who tended to be well liked with a sizeable group of friends so it mildly surprised Peter to find him alone at a cafe.

[i]’Maybe he’d been with Samson and Claire[/i] he figured and waited his turn behind Dexter, hoping the line would go quickly so he could stop looking like a Dawn Of The Dead extra.