Nick O'Connor
Havenfield Market, Roseview.
Too many people. This was stupid, this was stupid. Why was he doing this?
Nick knew perfectly well why he'd dragged himself to this halloween themed party, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of strangers, without so much as one soldier in a backpack for protection. The damn drawing effect, or whatever it was that made him always expose himself to people without wanting to. Being a hermit was hard for a metahuman.
His costume was about the laziest thing he'd ever been a part of - his grey hoodie, an old pair of boxing gloves, and... that was it. "Rocky", he muttered halfheartedly to anyone who asked about it. Maybe he should have gone as 'Bug-Man' or some shit and coated himself with his pets; that would have been convincing, at least. And safer. But it probably would have got him shot by a security guard, so... better he hadn't.
He was shaken out of his self-pity by some drama unfolding next to him. A bunch of kids were beating a hasty retreat from some shouting carny who seemed to believe that they were snot-nosed brats who had cheated him. Nick cleared his throat and stepped up to the counter good-naturedly, chuckling awkwardly to himself. "Eh, kids'll be kids... right?"
The carny's red-faced glare fixed on him silently, and Nick beat a hasty retreat back into the crowd.