The lounge buzzed with the low hum of conversation as teachers and staff drifted through their lunch breaks, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tensions. The room seemed to still when Ephemera stormed in, her rage palpable. Her usually neat hair had come undone, falling in wild disarray around her shoulders. Her frustration was evident in her every movement, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fury and sorrow.
Principal Orellos, seated comfortably at his usual spot, barely glanced up from his meal. "Here we go again," he muttered under his breath, clearly irritated by the interruption. He observed as Ephemera's agitation grew. "You think you're making a difference by turning this into a spectacle? You're just drawing more attention to yourself, Ephemera." His tone was dripping with dismissive contempt, eyes gleaming with a mixture of disdain and amusement.
Ephemera's jaw tightened, her hands fisted at her sides. "A spectacle?" she snapped, her voice shaking with anger. "Is that all you see? Do you think this is just some kind of performance?" Her demeanor was growing more disheveled, her carefully maintained appearance slipping with every heated word. The fabric of her dress strained against her movements, a subtle sign that her patience—and her control—were fraying.
"You act like you're some kind of savior," Orellos retorted, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. "But all you're doing is proving everyone's point. You're nothing more than an exhibitionist, Ephemera." His gaze was cold, his posture relaxed as if he were simply waiting for her to tire herself out.
Ephemera's face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Exhibitionist? Is that how you see me?" Her voice trembled as she took a step forward, her composure slipping further. Her dress, already strained, began to tear at the seams. The fabric revealed hints of armor plating beneath, dark and rugged, suggesting a strength that had been carefully concealed.
Orellos's eyes narrowed. "Oh, the armor plating," he scoffed. "What's next, Ephemera? Are you going to strip down and show us the full extent of your mixed traits?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, his disdain clear.
Ephemera's anger intensified. "You don't understand," she shouted, her voice rising in volume. She tore off her gloves in a swift motion, revealing long, sharp claws reminiscent of a raptor's. The claws glinted menacingly under the lights. "You think you know what it's like to be me? To have to hide every part of who you are?"
Orellos remained unmoved, leaning forward with a smirk. "And you think you're some kind of hero, don't you? Parading around like you're showing us the way. All I see is a creature trying to fit into a world that doesn't want her." His words were laced with bitterness, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Ephemera's frustration boiled over. Her breathing became ragged as her neck, partially hidden by her dress, began to extend, revealing its sauropod features. The gown strained against her elongating neck and powerful legs, which were visible through the tearing fabric. Her appearance was becoming increasingly unrestrained, a stark contrast to her previous composure.
From the non-dino side of the room, the murmurs of disapproval were barely contained. The non-dinosaurs, including a few archosaurs and other reptiles, watched the unfolding drama with a mix of disinterest and scorn. Their table was a quiet, subdued area compared to the uproarious dinosaur side, where conversation had ceased altogether as they watched the confrontation.
Ephemera slammed her hand on the table, causing dishes to rattle. Her face was flushed with frustration as she addressed the principal. "You know what's wrong, Orellos? It's not just that you're letting this human undermine everything we've worked for. It's that you're doing it while pretending like you're some kind of enlightened leader!"
Liora, a parasaur who had been quietly supporting Ephemera, leaned in closer. "Exactly! You're so busy trying to look good for outsiders that you're ignoring the real issues right in front of you. It's like you've forgotten what this school was meant to be." Her voice was filled with a mix of anger and sympathy for Ephemera's plight.
Orellos's expression remained cold. He glanced around at the staff who were now divided in their reactions—some showing support for Ephemera, others maintaining their disapproval of her actions. "A testament?" he repeated mockingly, turning his attention back to Ephemera. "You think this chaos is proof of anything? All I see is a grotesque display of traits that don't belong together."
The principal's laughter was harsh, unfeeling. "So you think your existence is some grand achievement? I'm sorry, but I don't see it that way. You and your kind have always been a disappointment, trying to prove something that can't be proven." His gaze swept over the divided staff, his tone dismissive. "Is this your idea of progress? Assaulting someone and then using it as proof of unity?"
Ephemera's eyes widened with fury. She raised her voice to a deafening roar, a wave of sound that shattered the nearby windows and forced everyone to cover their ears. "Shut the hell up!" she screamed, the noise reverberating through the room like a physical force.
The principal remained unfazed, his expression cool and detached. "Are you done with your tantrum yet?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "Or do you need more time to prove your point?" He regarded her with a steely gaze, as though her outburst was merely an inconvenience.
Ephemera's face reddened, her eyes blazing with anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about! My mother was assaulted, and my existence is a result of that violence. But despite everything, I've become something more than just a product of her pain. I'm a symbol of her work, what can happen when different species come together!"
The principal replied, "is that wat you tell yourself at night?"