chimeric_change (chimeric_change) wrote in willowbrookrpg, @ 2014-01-28 18:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, day: november 13, james killian, player: ness, player: sarah, victoria dickerson |
WHO: James Killian and Victoria Dickerson
WHAT: Flying lesson number 2
WHEN: Wednesday, November 13
WHERE: James’s apartment
RATING: Low
STATUS: Closed/Complete (started in gdoc and continued in comments)
James couldn’t believe he’d stayed up half the night texting with Tori. Damn girl really was persistent. And, in spite of himself, he did actually find her entertaining. Of course, the whole thing had ended on a rather sour note for him and he’d had nightmares he hadn’t had in years. He had to get new sheets - his powers had activated while he slept. Thank fuck he’d been alone. He didn’t like the feeling of being out of control, and it wasn’t something he’d had to deal with in a long time.
The day had required a lot of coffee. Apparently, sleep got more important when you got older. He could handle it on a mission, but on a mission there was adrenaline. Which apparently replaced caffeine. He’d just gotten home and was brewing another pot when there was a knock at the door. Tori. Of course. sighing, he went to the door, opened it and headed straight back inside.
“Just making the agreed upon coffee. You want Irish coffee? Mine will be,” he informed her. Maybe she shouldn’t drink before training, though...
***
It wasn’t normal for her to stay up texting quite that late, either, but being out of the ordinary didn’t mean that it was a bad sign. She thought it was probably an excellent sign for their teacher/student relationship. Things would go easier if they got along well, and he’d forgive her botched attempt at making cookies maybe if he knew a little bit about her. Plus there was the fact that she couldn’t stop herself. Tori could talk paint off of the walls given half the opportunity. She’d never had a phone before Willowbrook or anyone to text with, so now she was a notorious abuser and generator of the longest text conversations in history. The biggest problem was that she’d been a little bit of a zombie in Power Control, which wasn’t all that problematic. She did well in that class.
Of course, had she known about the depression and the power activation, she might very well have never shown her face to him again. She hated having any kind of negative impact upon people, and that hadn’t been her intention. All she had wanted was to get to know him. Nights like that she couldn’t ignore how lonely she could be, still, sometimes.
“Hello James!” she sing-songed, though it was cut a little short by his abrupt retreat. “Huh.” The open door she took as an invitation, and she followed him into his apartment. This time she’d walked into the Centurion dorm building like she owned the place, familiar enough to get from the bottom floor up to see him. Had she thought the roof access might’ve been open she probably would have tried to fly just to brag, but she didn’t expect that the school’s soldiers would be so stupid. “Mister Killian better? Or was it nothing I said?”
She followed him into the kitchen area and thrust a Ziploc container at him. The contents were dark brown, closer to black, but a few of the cookies on top were approximately the right color. “Here.” She wasn’t going to own up to making them. He already knew she had. “And yeah, hit me. Can’t hurt to be looser for flying, right?” It could hurt, but she was hoping that the power of positive thinking would be working for her in a big way today. “Have a good day?” Grabbing a chair, she dropped into it, straddling it and resting her arms on the back, chin resting on her wrists as she watched him. There was no need to tell her to make herself at home.
***
“James is fine,” he answered, smirking to himself a little. He couldn’t even say that Mr. Killian was his father because he didn’t know his father’s name. The Captain had given him his name, and Killian wasn’t his name, either.
When she thrust the container at him, he looked up at her, eyebrows raised, before opening it up and taking one of the lighter ones. “Most of them are burnt,” he observed, though he did continue to eat the one he had in his hand. The coffee pot gurgled, indicating the pot was just about made and he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. He also took out the Bailey’s and Jameson. “And yes, it can hurt, so unfortunately, I’ll have to recant my offer until after the lesson. But then you are welcome.” so saying, he made himself his coffee and pushed hers toward her, also offering milk and sugar. What? He drank his black usually. He just happened to have milk.
sitting down, he leaned back and sipped his coffee, looking quite content. Coffee. “Did you check to see how high you need to go for proper lift?” he asked after a moment of savoring his drink.
***
“James, then.” She beamed. “I’m Tori.”
As if he didn’t know that. He probably didn’t even know that that wasn’t her full name, the one she’d been given. But it was definitely the one that she’d claimed. Nothing got her quite so mad as being called Victoria. Cannon’s insistence upon calling her by her full name was half the reason she was so angry at him most of the time. The rest of it was a complicated mess of feelings and grievances that no one would ever really understand. Thus, he was only worthy of a curt acknowledgment of his surname in her book.
She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Making the cookies had seemed like a bright idea at the time, and it was if her goal had been eating three quarters of the batter without baking it. As far as snacks went, however, it’s a poor showing. “They’re singed,” she retorted, eyeing him. “And I didn’t promise great. I promised sweet, and I delivered. I came back, too, and for that I should be commended.” She smirked, unable to help herself. There hadn’t been a chance that she wouldn’t. Though it had ended with her drenched and they hadn’t gotten very far, she’d enjoyed the first lesson. They could only improve, she assumed.
“Killjoy,” Tori murmured as she took her cup of coffee when he offered it. “You just don’t want me getting too good too fast. Might not need your lessons anymore, and then where would you be?” Sad, she assumed, without her around to brighten his Wednesdays. Theirs was a Wednesday thing she’d decided. It was a good way to spend the filling of the sandwich that was the week. “And kind of I did? Does it help if I sort of Googled to find a formula?” Not that she’d applied it. But she’d only remembered her homework last minute and had been too proud to ask around campus for someone who did well in math and science. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She waved her hand to dismiss any protest.
Taking the offered milk and sugar, she made it so light it was almost milk with coffee in it and spooned the sugar in, tasting in sips until she was satisfied. She could drink it black, but she liked having the luxury of lightening it up a bit. There had been a time when she didn’t have those things. “No rain in the forecast today I don’t think.” She didn’t know. Again with the power of positive thinking.
***
“We covered that last lesson. If I keep having to repeat myself, we won’t get very far,” he kidded straight-faced. He couldn’t even begin to fathom where the hell she got all her energy. Was that one of her powers? Endless energy? Like a really active metabolism or something? It was baffling.
“Nuances, baby bird. You need to check the nuance of singed. I think you don’t quite have it,” he said, finishing off the cookie he had selected. He was definitely more relaxed tonight. Maybe after their texting marathon he had actually decided that he liked her. Maybe knowing a little more about her had helped, like she’d planned. In any case, he was definitely less grumpy.
“Mmm. Because alcohol is a performance enhancer. shakespeare would disagree.” He gave her a look, wondering if she would bother to look up the reference. He knew she didn’t like being left out of anything, and it was something of a test. He liked to think that she would get more out of her lessons than learning to catch a little air. But the onus of learning was all on her, and that was the test. Would she step up or slack off? so far, she’d been something of a surprise to him. He hoped it continued.
“Google is fine,” he said. Digging around in a drawer, he pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil. “Tell me how high you need to be,” he instructed, shoving it toward her. Hey, she roped him into this. she could do the work when it was needed.
Leaving her to her math, he headed into the bedroom to strip to his waist so he could activate his abilities. Vest and shirt were tossed into the laundry basket in his closet, and this time he removed his shoes, too. Returning to the kitchen, he settled onto one of the breakfast bar stools and picked up his coffee again, reaching over the counter to get it. “so, what did you come up with?”
***
Tori couldn’t not rise to challenges. It was a strength and a weakness, never one without the other and seldom one of the things that made her fast friends. The mention of Shakespeare had her nose wrinkling. What did he have to do with alcohol and flying? And where would she even start trying to figure out that train of thought? Her eyes narrowed at him. There was something that he wasn’t saying. That he might be testing her went right over her head, however, and that was probably a good thing. Otherwise they might have been there all day with her pointing fingers and accusing him of testing her to no real purpose other than to show that she’d caught him red handed.
She swallowed thickly when he fished out the pad of paper and the pencil. Shit. It was all she could do not to cuss out loud, though she tried not to do that in front of people she respected and who were significantly higher in rank. Respect hadn’t come easy, but she hoped it was one of those things in which people appreciated the effort. Taking the writing utensil, she began scritching out numbers, crossing them out almost instantly. A moment later she resorted to trying to write the letters of the formula down. Her hand scribbled for a good few minutes, brow furrowed in concentration, then she set her pencil down with a click and a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Forty feet,” she said simply.
There was a whole lot of bullshit math on that paper, and she was talking out of her ass. Still, it was better than sitting there in awkward silence feeling stupid. And forty feet seemed reasonable enough. Why not? It was about the height of the building, and they could just use that again. She had looked up the formula even if she couldn’t remember it. Or hope to do the math even on an especially bright day. She really had a problem with physics, probably because it was a mix of math and science, neither of which she did well.
Somewhere along the way he’d gotten shirtless. The thought occurred after a moment, and she turned her gaze to her coffee lest she start leering and breathing through her mouth. Staring probably wouldn’t be appreciated.
***
To be fair, shakespeare had nothing to do with flying. But the scene in MacBeth where the guard went on at length about how alcohol made a guy horny but kept him from performing? Hilarious. Also reinforced James’s point that it was not a performance-enhancing drug. He did, however, catch her gaze and tossed her something of a bone. “MacBeth,” was all he said, shrugging a bit.
James frowned at her answer. It didn’t seem right. He took the pad from her, attempting to check the math, but truth was, he didn’t know shit about it, either. That’s why he’d told her to go ask someone. He knew there was a way to figure it, he just didn’t know how. Ugh. Looks like any homework he assigned to her, he’d have to plan on doing himself. Aggrevating. He gave her a hard look, made a sound like a grunt, and tore the page from the pad, folding it up and shoving it in his pocket. He’d have someone check it.
“You want to get on with it, then? The roof’s high enough apparently. Hope your calculations are good. Don’t want you splatting on the pavement,” he cautioned, unable to resist teasing her a bit. He did hope to make her think this was serious, but he really wouldn’t let her just fall. Not when she was under his care.
***
It was hard to appreciate being tossed a bone when you didn’t eat or gnaw on them. “Bless you,” she replied, smirking over the rim of her mug as she took another sip of coffee. “No, but thanks.” The last thing she wanted was for him to get irritated with her seeming lack of gratitude. She certainly did appreciate all of the effort he was putting into her flying. He’d already devoted more time to her than anyone else had really done. Though maybe she was being generous as she liked his style and approach.
Catching the grunt, Tori looked over at him, unable to keep a straight face. “My number isn’t in there, and, anyway, you’ve already got it. But you’re more than welcome to keep it. Hang it on your fridge.” Nobody had ever put her work up. She had never been an A student and hadn’t really had anyone around enough to care.
She downed the cup of coffee and set the empty mug on the table. “Let’s do this. I want my whiskey and cookies.” Since he was already stripped she decided to join him, removing her leather jacket and sweater, leaving her in a sports bra and tank. The last time she’d forgotten that her bones, her wings, went through her clothes. This time she refused to make the same mistake. Carelessness cost money and wrecked her wardrobe, tiny as it was to begin with. She refused to let that happen regularly. There was no way she could foot the bill for a new outfit every flying lesson.
“You need to have more faith in me. Flying is falling without hitting the ground. I can do this.” She beat a path to the door and held it open for him, motioning for him to exit. “Age before beauty.” The snort she ended the comment with betrayed her casual kind of confidence, though. She wasn’t sure she believed that remark for a moment.
***
James actually chuckled at the bless you, and raised his mug to her genuine thanks. shaking his head, he took a sip of his coffee, but shortly thereafter set it down. They had flying to do.
At her quip, James paused halfway into shoving the paper in his pocket. shrugging, he got up and did indeed stick it to his fridge with a magnet. “Happy?” he said, again straightfaced, though there was entertainment in his eyes. He was actually going to have someone look over it. He really didn’t want to have her fail every time because they weren’t high enough. That would be frustrating and defeat her will eventually. He didn’t want that.
Whiskey and cookies, he mouthed. Interesting combination. But alright. He was about to leave the kitchen when she also stripped, and he stopped then, because that was new. When it wasn’t anything indecent, he continued what he was doing, though he did give her a look over. Hey, she’d caught him off-guard.
“Of course you can,” he agreed, and though he sounded patronizing, he did actually believe she could. she just needed practice. Heading out through the door, he activated his abilities with something of a roar and made his way to the roof. “If you start to lose it this time, don’t flap. You’ll only fall faster. Just coast. I won’t let you fall, ok?”
***
Tori missed the glance that he gave her, a good thing since it would have derailed her completely. That was the kind of thing that had her running for the hills. In this case, it would’ve been out of his apartment and straight off the roof, and heaven only knew when he’d see her again. Talk about pushing the bird out of the nest. She was that unconscious of the fact that anyone might ever look at her as a girl, a woman really at this point, with an attractive body that she thought nothing of whipping off her top in front of people.
Never quite sure if she’d make it through a given doorway, she chose to wait until they were outside to extend her wings, which emerged the same as they had the last time. The roar did make the process pause for a moment, however, as she turned her attention that way. Instead of fear, delight was written all over her face. His powers, though she didn’t know the extent of them, seemed cool to her, maybe because she didn’t know many people with mutations that changed them physically. A lot of people, in her opinion, got off easy in that regard. Clearing her head with a shake that reminded her she hadn’t applied her scrunchie yet, she finished putting out her wings, stretching them high and wide in an arch. It was odd how satisfying it could be to get them air.
As she put her hair up she moved to the edge of the roof. Messy bun complete, she nodded. “No flapping. Yeah, yeah. I got it.” But that was a helpful tip, and even if she was pretending that she was just paying him lip service, she was actually interested in what he had to tell her. She just had a hard time acting grateful consistently. Showing it was easier, especially since she could alternate between small thanks and grand gestures.
She backed away from the ledge, still facing it. Forty feet wasn’t much. Four stories. The apartment building. There were higher buildings on campus, she realized. Maybe she should have guesstimated and chosen one of them. That didn’t matter at the moment. Taking a deep breath, she focused for a moment, feeling the shift as her bones went hollow, fragile but not exactly weak. It was always a wonder that she could stay standing. Her body did weird things that were amazing but a mystery since she didn’t really care to investigate the science behind all of the little things she could manage. All that mattered was that they were hers.
“Here goes nothing!” The words came out as a scream as she started off at a run, arms and legs pumping, wings closed. She jumped, launching herself off of the building with complete faith. Her arms went out, forward, spreading, then she remembered that they wouldn’t do a thing for her. Instead, she spread her wings, already having fallen a little. She was heading for the ground, yes, but more successfully than before as she had caught a current. Even if she wasn’t going up, she was at least going out and down. Hang-gliding was closer to flying than she’d gotten, and she let out a whoop of victory, praying that no buildings decided to jump in her way.
***
Tori was still in the student-therefore-not-a-person realm for James. So although he looked, he saw, he didn’t give it a second thought. She was slowly creeping into actual personhood for him, her vivacious approach to, well, everything winning him over a little more each time they interacted.
James wouldn’t have been surprised to notice that she paused when he roared. It was kind of the idea, and although he could activate his abilities quietly, roaring was preferred - it was a painful process and the vocalization gave him something else to think about as his body rearranged itself. He, too, knew the feeling that came with freeing his wings, so to speak, and they gave a little flutter before settling to an at-rest position.
Her apparent brush off earned a sharp, narrow-eyed glance from James, but as she got herself ready, he went to the edge of the roof and waited there. As she rushed by, he took off into the air, shaking his head slightly. She needed to stop doing that with her arms. Still, she did actually seem likely to stay airborne this time and he chuckled at her whooping. Shooting out in front and above her, he called down, “When you get close to the ground, you’ll need to land. Flap your wings like you’re trying to back-pedal... Like swimming backwards. You’ll go vertical so you can land.” He demonstrated somewhat, hanging in the air for a moment, before swooping up and back so that he could follow above her again should she find herself in a predicament.
***
The rush of wind and excitement in her ears made it hard to hear him, though she did her best to pay attention to what he was saying. Landing really was going to be the hard part now that she was gliding. In fact, his words of wisdom came a moment or two too late. With the ground coming up fast she was immediately reminded of the fact that her bones were hollow at the moment. They could break fairly easily, of that she was convinced. When her density control had come in she’d learned that the hard way. An image of her body, splattered and broken, flashed through her mind, and the fear was paralyzing. There would be no flapping, no back-pedaling.
Not sure what else to do, she reacted on gut instinct. The wings disappeared fast, and as quick as she thought it her armor activated. All of her bones slid out of place, giving her shape from the outside rather than from within as they became armored plates, beautifully articulated like a suit of armor from the middle ages. By the time she made touchdown she was all set, well protected, curling into a ball, though that may have been a bad idea. She made contact with the ground hard, leaving a small crater in the grass patch to which she’d managed to glide, then bounced and touched down a few more times, sending the sod flying. She eventually came to rest, completely still, not uncurling.
It was a good thing, she thought, that her face was covered by the armor, because she was blushing and knew it. Failing that spectacularly was embarrassing for anybody. She didn’t usually panic, but in this case she absolutely hadn’t been able to help it. Apparently she had a normal, human, healthy fear of dying. That made her feel better about herself but worse about her ever mastering flying.
***
Well, that didn’t go so well. James was shocked when suddenly her wings retracted and armor took their place. swooping down, he intended to catch her like last time (even if she did look a hell of a lot heavier), but suddenly she curled up like a fucking armadillo. The agent barely had enough time climb back up into the air to avoid crashing into the ground with her. As he watched her bounce, he was vaguely reminded of an old video game character, and it was one of those absurd moments during an emergency when things were almost comical. The moment passed quickly, though, and he landed near her.
“Tori!” he called, dropping to his knees next to her. For a second, he was afraid to touch her, not sure if he could make her current condition worse. “C’mon, Tori, open up!” Or say something, or do anything beside lie there like lifeless statue. James didn’t generally panic, but the realization that he had absolutely no idea how to deal with this problem, really freaked him out. His next action would be to call Dr. Nye if she didn’t come out of it.
***
It was probably for the best that he hadn’t played hero and gone in for the catch. When her armor was up and fully dense she was every bit as heavy as she looked, and there was no getting the bones to come apart since she needed them to survive. Furthermore, the armor didn’t deactivate if she was unconscious, a little fact she’d learned the hard way in training when she’d pushed herself a little too hard against an opponent. She was literally a living statue, well protected but a pain to try and move if moving was necessary and she couldn’t voluntarily get herself from one place to another. That she’d managed to curl up was actually really great in her opinion, or would be when she reflected, because that was a pretty quick movement given how much the plating reduced her speed. The bouncing, though jarring, was much better than a belly flop straight down into the ground, even if it was grass.
“You don’t want that,” she replied after a moment. Unfurling with a flop that was silent aside from the noise her body made when it thudded against the grass, she sat up slowly, turning her head from side to side and shaking it off. “You know I’m all about doing what you ask and filling requests, but if I deactivate this armor now, we’re going to have a special kind of unveiling. Not sure if nudity is as illegal on campus as it is in other places, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t looked upon favorably.” She laughed, the sound echoing a little bit in the “helmet” of the armor. Her eyes were visible, open and full of delight and mischief, through the eyeholes that enabled her to see, though her field of vision was somewhat limited.
Getting up, she raised her arms above her head. There would be bruises later in her soft and mushy parts, she was pretty sure, but she felt otherwise unscathed. That armor was harder than one might think thanks to her density control. Somehow she preferred this to hollow bones. She preferred it to a lot of things, really. Sometimes she dreamed of running away and just living naked or armored, which was probably weird, but when she didn’t want to deal with people it was an absolutely beautiful thought. Incredibly enticing. Only she knew she’d be lonely.
“Surprise! Look what I can do?” If she’d wanted a flashy way to expose another one of her powers to him she couldn’t have planned it better if she’d tried.
***
James couldn’t quite express how relieved he was when she spoke, though there was a definite exhalation of gratitude. He was pretty sure that if he maimed or killed a student, both Woo and Dobbs would be after his ass, and that was a special kind of trouble he really didn’t want. she wasn’t making much sense and he wondered if her brain got bounced around in there, but then she explained. The mimic chuckled a bit, about to assure her that he’d seen a naked woman before, when she continued on with the whole approved/not approved thing. she had a point.
At her explanation, James laughed and shook his head. Giving her a good knock on the head, he said, “Pretty effective defense.” He turned then to look her good in the eyes, his expression serious again. “And a pretty poor excuse for landing gear. You’re still going to learn how to do that. C’mon. Get up,” he said, reaching over to help her up. His strength was much increased like this, and he was already a strong man. It would be no problem to help her up, though his wings had a whole different take on the weight limit thing.
***
Though it was hidden by the armor, she grinned. Compliments about her powers always made her ecstatic, mostly because they felt the most genuine. Her power was her, plain and simple, and comments that were positive made her feel useful, valuable, like she’d done a good job just by existing. She was special, something she’d never been before her mutant powers had manifested. To anyone else “pretty effective defense” might have seemed like nothing or very small, objective praise. To Tori, it was as sweet as candy. Her whole body relaxed. Who cared if she could fly? She was a tank, a beast, when i came to close combat.
“My offense is good like this, too.” Any opportunity to show off a bit was welcome. Once she was on her feet she crouched a bit, always finding it easier to hunch slightly. It was nicer on her knees, which might very well be aching after this. The learning to land could most certainly wait. Putting her arms up, crossing them over her chest, she concentrated, the plate armor shifting and changing until two swords, attached to her hands, appeared, though they were somewhat undefined and more like crude spikes that had been whittled down a bit. She assumed as she got better with her powers she’d make nicer looking bony protrusions. This was already leagues beyond where she’d been when she’d arrived at the school, and she was optimistic in her belief that she was improving a little every day.
“En garde!” she cried, standing up a little straighter, though she didn’t point the spikes in his direction. For an added bit of flair she shot a row of spikes straight back quickly, showing that she could defend behind her if needed in an instant. The spikes shifted, twisting together, taking on the shape of her wings. They were heavy, though, more like a tower shield than anything that might ever hope to get her airborne. With the armor active there was absolutely no chance that she was flying. Hollow armor seemed redundant, and she hadn’t figured out how to make the two go hand in hand just yet. That would have to be a part of their lessons, and it actually might be a good idea one day.
The blades retracted, smoothing into armor plates on her arms once more, though the wings stayed right where they were. She actually planted the tips into the ground and rocked back off of her feet, using them as a bit of an impromptu way to take a load off. “What, now? You can’t be serious. Unless you intend for me to learn to land bareass naked.” It was dark and nighttime. How many people were out? Though she couldn’t say she wanted to make a habit of flying around nude in populated areas. She didn’t really want the lesson to be over yet, either, by the same token. This had to be the proverbial rock and hard place that she was in.
***
Tori had reason to be pleased with herself - controlling her bones like that had to be an incredibly complex, involved process. For James, his change was automatic. He didn’t have to think about a thing. But each form required focus on Tori’s part, and that was pretty amazing. The control over her body, was like the control an athlete had, and James admired it. He liked that she was fearless - well, in experimenting with her ability - it showed an incredible curiosity, which he also admired. It was why he kept challenging her to learn new things or figure them out - her thirst for knowledge seemed insatiable.
When Tori started showing off, James stepped back, giving her plenty of room. He watched her quietly, seeming every bit the cat about to pounce with twitching tail, though he had no actual tail. His claws itched to extend; this was a show of strength, a display that required a response. But James knew how to deal with these urges - he’d dealt with him his whole life. so he managed to keep his claws in, and when she finally finished transforming and shifting around like that, he paused thoughtfully.
“I have a shirt. It should cover you up. But maybe it isn’t the best time, considering. You will learn it, though. And... don’t panic. I didn’t let you fall last time. I wouldn’t have let you fall today, or any other time,” he assured her. “You want your whiskey and cookies?” he asked.
***
“I’m going to take you up on that offer. Some people might be too polite and just say ‘oh, no, I live fairly nearby, I’ll just be on my way,’ but I am most certainly not that person.” She pointed at him with one bone covered finger. “And this doesn’t count as me quitting, by the way. Biting the dust and going fully armored definitely counts as a rain delay, not a quitting.” Dropping her hand to her hip, she began trudging towards the building from which they’d jumped. “I don’t quit.” They needed to get that clear and straight, definitely. She didn’t want there to be any question in his mind. Going in was not because she was scared or anything, though maybe she was a little bit in the corner of her mind. “But I don’t want to go home yet. It’s way too early, and all my homework is finished.” Or she wasn’t going to do it. Whichever.
“So it was always easy for you?” she asked as she made her way to the front door of the building. “Just...flying? Bam? There? Had it?” That was hard for her to imagine, though it wasn’t at all hard to believe. People’s powers worked differently. She had to think about things, yes, he was right in that assessment, but she thought that some of the most unfortunate people were the ones who didn’t. Mental powers, for instance, bothered her because they always seemed to be on. Turning them off seemed to be a common problem among the psychics she knew on campus. She couldn’t imagine the headache, especially if she knew what other people were thinking. That wasn’t anything she ever wanted to know. “Also, if you want to take the stairs ahead of me, I’ll totally understand. I move like I’m walking through molasses when I’m like this.”
After a brief silence she turned to him. “Do I seriously seem like someone who panics to you? While the ground is coming up at me notwithstanding, obviously. That’s a special case. My reaction was reasonable, and nobody’s going to tell me otherwise.”
James had to grin. Her vehemence in asserting her non-quitting attitude was entertaining. He appreciated her assurances, but he thought the maid doth protest too much, so to speak. He knew she wasn’t throwing in the towel permanently - he didn’t doubt that she wasn’t a quitter - but sometimes calling it quits for a night was the thing to do. Get to hung up on a thing, too focused on it, and it was bound to be repeated over and over, with no change. Keep thinking about not freaking out and hitting the ground and, well, that was exactly what was going to happen. With potentially increasingly disastrous results. “Of course,” was all he said, to both her assertions and her claim that it was too early. After a 2am bed-time, he could disagree.
“Pretty much,” he said. “I’m a mimic - I take on the qualities of specific animals. Everything is instinct for me. I faltered a few times, but my body already knew how to fly. When you were showing off back there, the predator in me recognized the predator in you - kind of a twisted Namaste,” he said with a fangy grin. “It was a challenge. Be glad I have plenty of practice controlling that.” And she should be. He expected that punching her armor would be like hitting a brick wall - he’d already tested it once - but his claws were designed to rip through flesh and cut bone. she was not invincible.
James stopped when she turned to him. “You did panic. You had the situation under control, but you let your mind get in the way,” he said, poking at her armored skull. “You thought when you should have felt. You have instincts, too. And, I was there. My job is to protect you. You’re not getting hurt on my watch, ok?” He held her gaze for a moment, because he meant what he said, before he headed in to trudge up the stairs. He didn’t wait for her, but he did leave the door to his apartment open when he got there so she could come in.
Heading to his bedroom, he shut the door most of the way before deactivating his abilities. The effort drained him as usual and he ended up hunched over the bed, supporting his weight heavily on shaky arms. He shook it off after a moment, but his body glistened with sweat and he was still shaking. Going to the closet, he grabbed a long-sleeved shirt for himself, and a short sleeved shirt for Tori. And a belt. What? she could make it fashionable.
***
“I admire your restraint. Clearly this is why I’m the student and you’re the teacher. I have a really hard time backing down from things I perceive as a challenge.” Understatement. She was the ram butting its head over and over against the cliff face in an attempt to take down whatever was perched on the crag overhead. Even if she couldn’t win, she’d keep trying until she was exhausted, unconscious, or dead. Her quitting speech had been genuine in that regard. “But if we’ve already done the handshake, we should definitely get into the dance sometime. It’d be fun to spar, I think. I always like hitting the training room with people who are different from me, and even though we have some overlap, I think we definitely count as different in a lot of ways. I’d be interested to see what came of it.” Perhaps overconfident, she was at least thinking of a draw, though that was how most sparring matches should end in her mind. That had been a theory a long time in the development, but she was old enough and mature enough to know that winning wasn’t as important as learning and honing skills and powers.
It was definitely a few minutes before Tori came strolling into the apartment behind him, though a girl in full bone plate body armor didn’t really stroll if they were being perfectly honest--she clomped. Once upon a time she’d worried about that kind of thing. Now, she really couldn’t be bothered to think about it too hard. People could take or leave her when it came to her powers and their opinions of them. She hoped they’d take them, but she wasn’t changing or hiding anything for anybody, not when it came to what she could do. Every time someone called her gross or told her not to do something around them she got a little stronger, more confident and certain. The weight of the armor slowed her down, but the food for thought that she’d been given downstairs wasn’t making her move any faster. James and dessert could wait. She wasn’t certain that he would, but she could hope.
Though it was probably completely inappropriate, she made her way all the way into the apartment, leaning against the wall opposite his bedroom door once she’d retracted her wings. It was easier to get them put away, she felt, when she had her armor out. There wasn’t that awkward moment of slipping into her skin to contend with. People asked her if it hurt, which it didn’t, exactly, but it definitely felt strange. Explaining it to people who didn’t know was almost impossible.
“Hey.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “Listen to me.” As if he had a choice. Tori was very good at making herself heard when she had a mind to. She’d been thinking on her way up the steps, four flights in armor that had felt like an eternity, and she’d decided that something needed to be said.
“I get that a lot of people have protective urges and impulses. And you probably think or feel or whatever that I’m your responsibility because I asked you to teach me how to use my wings properly. But the fact is that I asked you, and you begrudgingly agreed to help me. You don’t have to worry about it any deeper than that. I know because I’m a student that you might think I need protecting. I’m a seventh year, though. Almost graduated. I know a thing or two, and I can handle myself. So stop with the stuff about me not getting hurt on your watch. You wanna help me if I start tanking? Fine. I really do appreciate it. Who doesn’t like knowing somebody’s got her back? But if something does happen to me, that’s my problem, because all of this was my idea and my decision. I’m an adult, and I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now. I don’t want you feeling like it’s somehow your fault if I get banged up and a few bruises or worse even. Because I can’t stand the idea of you beating yourself up over something I did that you think is your job to have prevented. Okay?”
Holding one hand out, she stood up a little straighter. Not having her face exposed, she resorted to body language, sticking a hip out at a sassy angle. The serious business part of the conversation, her stance said, was over. “Now give me that, because it looks damn comfortable. You can keep the belt, though. Don’t wear those even on pants that need it.” She laughed, the sound a little strange from inside her carapace.
***
James stifled a grin. “I would never have guessed,” he deadpanned. Though he was surprised at what she said next, and tilted his head thoughtfully. Ok, so flying lessons had evolved into combat lessons, too. There were plenty of people to teach her that, unlike with flying, but he was not opposed. After a moment, he nodded, “Alright. We can do that.” He was already training Claire, but that was a special situation. Apparently so was this. Maybe he’d get them together at some point, a multiple combatants kind of training. He’d have to think about it. While Tori was pretty far-advanced in her training, he still had an obligation to Emily to make sure Claire didn’t get hurt because her sparring partner was inexperienced. As for a draw, yes, Tori was probably overestimating her abilities. James had many, many more years of training and actual real-world experience. It was what he did - be a tank - so it was unlikely that Tori could match him just yet. Though she would probably give him a run for his money.
The agent heard his student enter, of course, but he was still poking around in the closet when she spoke. The seriousness of her tone, made him back up so he could see her through the bedroom door, and he listened with furrowed brow. He was quiet after she spoke, and didn’t quite get the chance to respond before she asked for the shirt, which he handed over. Stepping out of the bedroom (in the corner of which were piled his shredded sheets and quilt), he gestured for her to use the room for her own privacy while she changed. It was then that he responded. “I’m sorry, Tori, but you are my responsibility. When someone agrees to teach someone, they are agreeing to the responsibility of looking after that person’s well-being in whatever way it is connected to their teaching. So if I am teaching you to fly, it is my job to make sure you are safe while doing so with me. If I am teaching you to write, then it is my job to make sure that the assignments are suitable to your skill and maturity level so that you have the chance to succeed and build on what you know. In essence, it does come down to having your back, except there is also responsibility to do so, not just a general kind of... politeness in it.”
James waited for her to come out, giving her that serious look. He wasn’t budging on this. Maybe she wouldn’t, either. Their first test of wills.