#sxccharose

          He's been picking splinters of brick out of his hands ever           since one  armored  truck  happened  to  roll  by. It was a           good reminder that he could  still  use his power, maybe           he's even  a little  more  stronger  than before.  But Wren           finds himself sitting at an outdoor café table, despite the           cold conditions. No one really bothers asking him for an           order, no one really wants   to talk to the freak pulling out           inch long shards of dried clay out of his hands.

          Wren looks up quickly, he catches a glimpse of pink and           immediately  assumes  it's  someone  else he knew. So,           he goes right back to what he was doing, stifling giggles.           ( Hey, his fast-healing made the closing wounds tickle. )