Room 330, Monday Evening

Jetpacks. Jetpacks had been pretty much exactly what Evan had needed today, and he hadn't even been aware of that fact until he'd strapped one on and flown around the Danger Shop in class. It made him thankful that he hadn't just sat that one out, today. After the way his break had gone, he'd probably be well within his rights to. But then, what would he have used as an excuse for skipping class? 'Sorry I missed class last week, I was just busy coping with the fact that my entire life was a lie cooked up in a virtual reality by my uncle, who killed me?'

Evan was sitting on his bed, frowning at a stack of books about ancient Egypt, and about evolution and natural selection, with a sort of blank look in his eyes and a puppy sitting on his feet. At least Ozzy seemed to know which way was up, today. That was... reassuring, in its own way.

[Open post, and the door is cracked! Beware, the tiniest mutant is a little prone to fits of melancholy, tonight. - And threads within are now heading to disturbing, possibly triggery territory Re: discussion of Torture and Character Death. Enter at your own risk.]