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[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/132fc165-222f-4eb5-93f4-2188d6ad6fb7.png[/img] & [img]https://i.imgur.com/unQ2imY.png[/img]

[color=254f28][u][b]Location:[/b][/u][/color]
Felix’ and Connor’s homes.

[color=FFD700][u][b]Interactions:[/b][/u][/color]
Felix and Connor.

[color=254f28][u][b]Time:[/b][/u][/color]
Evening.
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Inhaling a long breath, Connor was unable to resist a series of laughs echoing throughout his living room. Merely a moment needed to pass before the boy was tackled to the floor, with a massive canine aquinting him with a large, sloppy tongue. [b][color=254f28]”Cerberus!”[/color][/b] Connor tried, his giggles soon fading beneath a happy bark. [b][color=254f28]”We’ll never get out unless you move your fluffy ass!”[/color][/b] The Variant exclaimed. This was a pleasant variation from what he had gone through since that morning. Never before did he think that words would stick, quite like this. It actually bothered him, to be blamed for an atrocity. Only a day before, Connor was under the impression that nothing could pierce his ghostly skin, and that everything bounced off as if he had been carved from titanium. Perhaps he was wrong. 

Pulling himself out from beneath Cerberus, Connor dusted his clothes off with a huff, [b][color=254f28]”thanks, Cerbie..,”[/color][/b] came a faded whisper, [b][color=254f28]”you’re always there for me.., you big goof..,”[/color][/b] the little ‘Monster’ smiled, his arms finding home around Cerberus’ neck in a tight, loving hug. [b][color=254f28]”Now let’s see if I can get you into a harness without bribing your fat ass,”[/color][/b] Connor smirked, his claws moving to gently scratch the canine behind his large, fuzzy ears.
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It had been a long couple of hours but Felix finally sat down at his desk to consult his diary, hoping against hope that he didn’t have many admin tasks scribbled down for the evening. His plans for a relaxing reflection had dissipated rapidly upon finding the interlopers in his apartment. What followed was a miserable takeout, a good deal of scrubbing tumeric stains and writing an extensive grocery list of pantry replacements. But he’d decided that buying new spices and condiments was a small price to pay for coming out of a burglary with nothing valuable stolen and no physical harm. What he hadn’t yet fully processed was the fact that two more people, other Variants no less, also now knew his secret. Even more bizarre was the fact that one of them had given him his phone number in what had initially seemed to be a flirtation.

The young teacher flicked open his diary and saw that he only had one item listed that demanded his attention this evening and groaned. 

[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200126/37f77621675c9270c001796d2cea075f.png[/img][/center]

Understandably (given his evening so far), he had completely forgotten that he’d been asked to follow up with Connor’s mother after the event witnessed at lunchtime. All he needed to do was call her up, let her know what happened so she could be sure her son was alright and that he, and the school, would follow procedures and continue to support Connor in anyway they could. It was a standard enough conversation that he’d had before whenever one of his students had encountered bullying. 

5minutes later, he’d logged onto the school system remotely and accessed the contact details for Claire Everest. He sat back in his chair as the dial tone rang, his eyes were distracted by the crumpled post-it stuck over today’s date in his diary.
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An ever-repeated struggle in getting Cerberus to wear his harness left Connor out of breath, and out of shape. It was no surprise, naturally. The boy was about as physically inclined as a bedridden sickling. In a way, the comparison wasn’t too ludicrous. Connor’s abilities took a toll on his body, and leaving the teenager perpetually fatigued to a certain extent was simply something he could not escape. No matter the hours spent training, nor the copious amount of food he could ingest, he would remain the same for an eternity to come. A scrawny figure, whose skin glowed ever so dimly in response to darkness. He had yet to learn this fact, but it would come, in time. The one resource Connor had far too much of, and a pain he had not grown to understand. Not yet.

[b][color=254f28]”Huh?”[/color][/b] The Variant wiped his forehead, raven eyes turning towards a sudden intrusion of noise. Their telephone was ringing. He gently placed a hand atop its shape, and brought the archaic device to his pointed ear. Claire and Connor had considered getting rid of that thing. Few still retained their landline, and cellphones had long since overtaken the market. [b][color=254f28]”Hello?”[/color][/b] The Variant spoke, a leash still dangling from clawed digits, and yet to be used.

It was uncommon to be contacted in this fashion, as the house phone had claimed the role of decoration, more so than anything. Despite this, Connor felt the unfamiliar sensation of a plastic device against his skin, waiting for a voice to trickle through those small, prickled dots in its shape.  
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Felix was momentarily disarmed hearing Connor’s voice at the end of the phone and not his mother’s. Of course! She worked at the hospital. A nurse he seemed to recall. She may still be at work - especially after last night’s events. But it was still worth an ask. 

[color=FFD700][i]”Oh hi Connor, it’s Mr Pernass,”[/i][/color] he replied, [color=FFD700][i]”Is there any chance I could have a quick word with your mom?”[/i][/color]

If the boy said no, well he’d just pop Mrs Everest an email and head to bed. His head had started to pound slightly and he was still itching at the non-existent cut on his palm.
[hr]

A day full of unexpected events, with some less surprising tidbits sprinkled onto the hours now morphed into a quiet evening. This Tuesday was one Connor would remember, for better or worse. Did it all accumulate with Mr. Pernass’ voice flowing through a barely used landline? [b][color=254f28]”O-oh, hey, Mr. Pernass..,”[/color][/b] the Variant spoke, his voice faltering for a brief moment, before he collected himself. Had he done something wrong? No, Connor never engaged in conflict, even though he sometimes wished for the nerves to do so. Then, why was his teacher calling, and much more, seeking the boy’s mother? [b][color=254f28]”She’s at work,”[/color][/b] Connor informed, softly lowering himself to the armrest separating a larger sofa from the Variant’s frame. [b][color=254f28]”Is there.., anything I can help with?”[/color][/b] The teen continued, his fingers absentmindedly combing their way through Cerberus’ fur, where the large canine approached, still eager to head outside.
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He always hated when a student picked up the call instead of their parents. He remembered the feeling of panic himself all too well, even if the call were actually of a celebratory nature. [color=FFD700][i]”Oh no that’s alright, I’ll try her at work.”[/i][/color] he assured the teen.

He paused before his goodbye, to double check that that little shit Luke Hemmings hadn’t said or done anything else warranting concern. [color=FFD700][i]”Are you ok this evening? Anything else happen this afternoon worth chatting about?”[/i][/color]
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Raising a brow, Connor considered what his teacher said. Yes, a lot of things had happened. He had been used as a scapegoat for murder, he helped Chris Redfield escape a hospital, he likely damaged the man’s relationship with a very distrought sister, and now he was going to walk his dog and pretend like nothing of note happened. Clenching his teeth, the boy felt a sense of frustration washing over him. It was unexpected, to say the least. Why on earth did he feel.., angry? [b][color=254f28]”I’m..,”[/color][/b] Connor tried, his voice yet again cracking, [b][color=254f28]”yeah..,”[/color][/b] the boy lied. He seldom ever did. In fact, he could not recall the last time he spoke a blatant lie. Connor wasn’t okay, but blaming what had transpired in the cafeteria for this turmoil would be disingenuous. 

There was no simple answer. He was angry because people were dead, he was sad because others were afraid of him, and he was frustrated because he was unable to maintain a stable string of emotions. They bounced back and forth like a rubber ball. The moment all of this faded into the background, he found himself smiling, but once thoughts of reality glaring him down returned, he felt a massive sting boring itself into his chest. [b][color=254f28]”I’m okay, Mr. Pernass,”[/color][/b] Connor lied, again.

How far could a Variant be pushed before falling off the deep end? How long did it take before someone completely snapped? When did the intoxication of destruction overtake a fragile mind? Clenching his teeth, Connor found himself trembling. No, there was no easy answer, no way to pinpoint the source of his unidentifiable mixture of emotions. [b][color=254f28]”Thanks for checking in on me, Mr. Pernass..,”[/color][/b] the teenager spoke, a sense of fatigue gripping every word, [b][color=254f28]”but I’m..,”[/color][/b] Connor paused, his claws moving from Cerberus to the armrest he was sitting on, where they dug into the fabric. [b][color=254f28]”Okay..,”[/color][/b] the boy finished. [b][color=254f28]”Have a nice evening, Mr. Pernass...”[/color][/b]
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