[center]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/unQ2imY.png[/img]
[color=254f28][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Havenworth High.

[color=254f28][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
💀 None.

[color=254f28][u][b]Time[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Lunchtime.
[/center][hr]

Dragging his pencil across a previously blank page in rapid succession, Connor was breathing life into the image he had started drawing soon after arriving at school. As per expectation, other students were far more wary of the teenaged Variant than before. Stares had intensified, and avoiding the ‘Monster’ was a commodity. Connor did not blame the other students, for their acts were founded in emotion, and a desire to exclude an obvious enemy, as far as their conviction went. A flow of tears which made itself known throughout the day indicated that more than one other attendant at Havenworth High had family in Midtown, blood relatives now either faded into memory, or struggling for their lives at the state hospital. 

Moving his slender hand towards the burger in front of him, resting on the same tray Connor had seen every weekday, his sharp teeth dug into its shape with ease. Consistency was something often lost on the Variant, or little ‘Monster’ as he had christened himself. His inhuman teeth allowed for meat to offer little more resistance than bread. Admitting towards the displeasure of such was uncommon, but present. “Hey, freak!” A voice, loud and tentatively obnoxious trickled into Connor’s pointed ears, soon after he returned the burger to where it had previously sat. 

It would be foolish to claim that this scene didn’t warrant attention from the rest of the school cafeteria, but as a pair of obsidian eyes rose to meet the angry gaze of Luke Hemmings, the resident school ‘bully’, Connor understood that this interaction had few varying outcomes. 

[b][color=254f28]”Yes, Luke?”[/color][/b] The Variant returned, closing his sketchbook and slipped the leather-bound item into his shoulder bag. A continuation of his newest project would need to wait. That much had grown abundantly obvious.

“Remind me again why they let you in here?” Came a question that brought a clear question-mark to the Variant it had been aimed at. Connor had expected Luke to spout profanities, but nothing quite like this. 

[b][color=254f28]”What do you mean?”[/color][/b] The ‘Monster’ asked in return, raising a thin, barely visible brow.

“Oh fuck you, Connor! You know exactly what I mean!” Luke shouted. There was pain in his voice, more so than anger. Pain, and hatred. Though Connor would admit that very few things affected him, this had proven to be one of those rare exceptions. He found himself clenching his teeth, those large, black eyes lowering to the wooden table where he was sitting. “They keep letting you freaks hang around humans, and when something happens, we’re the ones who get hurt!” It was a statement founded in regret, and misery. However, Luke was not completely wrong, though calling it ‘correct’ would have been an overstatement. 

[b][color=254f28]”I didn’t attack Midtown, Luke,”[/color][/b] Connor frowned, his eyes moving to meet the saddened glare. It was making itself known that Connor appeared unsure, throughout the interaction, his thoughts set on what he had seen on that television screen. A myriad of people had died because one Variant decided to give in to madness.

“Does it fucking matter!?” Another loud exclamation made its way past Luke’s quivering lips. Never before had he appeared this vulnerable, and devastated. “What happens when you decide to go apeshit, huh? Are you going to kill us all!?”

[b][color=254f28]”Wh-what? Come on, dude..,”[/color][/b] Connor tried, stuttering in his statement. He had expected this, but he was far from prepared to face a scolding of this level.

“You can’t even say one fucking word without it sounding like you want to off us all,” Luke spat, pointing out the Variant’s ghostly voice. “Two of my cousins were killed in Midtown yesterday!” The revelation warranted tension now traveling through Connor’s frame. He had no counter to that. “How the fuck can we spend several hours here every day, knowing that if you decide to snap, we’re all dead!?”

It would be a lie to say that using his powers wasn’t intoxicating. Connor knew, better than anyone in that cafeteria, how utterly fantastic it felt to unleash his abilities. It was almost a drug, something which made him want more. It felt like breathing for the very first time. He could still recall it, the exhilaration flowing through him as Necrotic Force danced free. It was a horrifying thought, and giving in to madness was not as outrageously impossible as most Variants wanted to convince themselves of. 

Without another word, Connor stood and started on a straight path out of the cafeteria. How could he convince anyone of his innocence when his very existence was the accusation? This wasn’t simply others judging him. He was being blamed for a massive atrocity, and it was only a matter of time before someone decided to take the next step.