Octavian.
Octavian looked out over the school roofs, clutching his knees to his chest. Demetria laughed at him often enough for his...prediclation for high remote places. She said he should just move to the Andes or the Alps and have done with it. But they were quiet. Still. Lonely.
God knew he didn't like being alone, usually. But he was feeling lost, in himself. He didn't know who he was anymore. He'd always known...what exactly he was, who he was, what was going to happen. His mutation had barely even shaken that, not being something overly impressive, really. Something he could just pass off. Not like Demetria's. Or once he'd come to the school...
Jono's bandages and angry bitter eyes that said 'I've seen most everything and f*ck you if you think you can pity me'. Sergei's gleaming cast iron skin and odd eyes, mouth curled up in an unamused smile at the world. Nathan's pale faded scars and insane eyes. Varian...now there was something that didn't make sense at all. Both Nightcrawler and the Beast, in their blue fur. Though he got on better with Kurt, both of them having a rather odd sense of humour.
Somehow, he always remember people's eyes. They were the windows to the soul...as one philosopher had put it. Gateways to the reality within. He wondered sometimes, why no one had ever seen in his eyes who he was. Secrets upon secrets, all hidden behind a facade even his twin couldn't see through. Bobby had caught the merest glimpse. And god, he wished he could make him forget. He didn't want anyone's pity, he didn't want their sympathy. Maybe that's why he got on so well with the other members of his band. They had all lived through terrible things and come out the other side, still standing on their own two feet. And no one had better dare pity them for what they'd been through.
Maybe that's why his skin crawled whenever he had to listen to Dawn whine. Or any of what his sister had termed the Whiny Bitch Brigade. Yes, bad things had happened to them. But bad things had happened to other people too. Gwen, for example, had been turned over to be experimented on as a child by her own parents. She didn't go looking for pity. That was what annoyed him the most. They went looking for other's pity and sympathy, actively seeking it.
Oh boo hoo, poor me. My mother died and my sister died to save the world. Oh poor me, no one likes me. Oh poor me, my baby's hurting me. Oh poor me, I was raped three times. Oh poor me, I had to kill my cousin so I could save the world. Oh poor me, I'm smart and therefore no one likes me. Oh poor me, I can't seem to get a break. Oh poor me, pity me, cover me with sympathy because I'm so deserving.
Octavian's mouth tightened slightly.
Yeah, poor them. Yeah, right. If they want things to change, they'd need to grow up a little. They weren't the only people in the world who bad things had happened to. In fact, things a lot worse had happened to a lot more people then them. He should know. He was one of those people. But he was never going to tell anyone, because he didn't want anyone's sympathy.
He just hid it away inside and laughed. Blue eyes faintly self- mocking and mouth smiling in an easy grin. Once you've put on an act long enough, it almost becomes who you are. One thing was certain, he wasn't letting anyone get behind it. No one. Not Demetria, not Bobby who already knew more then Octavian wished and certainly not one of the Patrol. None of the teachers, no one.
An uneasy prickling crept across his neck.
Unless Xavier already knew...but hopefully, there were so many loud thoughts at the school he wasn't concentrating on the one student who was so outwardly well adjusted. And here's hoping Jean never decided to snoop. She would tell everyone, not caring what he wanted. God, if she ever did...
His hands curled into fists and he drew his lips back from his teeth, almost hissing in pure rage. He looked eerily feline, crouched against the back drop of the roof and mouth open in an expression of defensive anger and fright.
Never, never, never, never...
He calmed himself slowly.
He was Octavian Felix. Feral. Calm. Collected. Ever so faintly sarcastic and the slut of the Western world. But a slut with taste, darrrling.
He shook his head slightly and dropped off the roof, swinging into his bedroom through the window.
His CD player was still playing softly to itself, which he had heard from the roof.
"This is how you remind me of what I really am
This is how you remind me of what I really am
It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breaking
I've been wrong, I've been down
Been to the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream are we having fun yet?
Yet? Yet? Yet? No no
Yet? Yet? Yet? No no..."
Octavian lay down on his bed, hands laced behind his head. Yeah, we weren't having fun yet...
The party hadn't even begun.