Sebastian O'Callahan (Open.)

He'd had left his notes in the classroom he had borrowed that morning. He liked putting his students in different environments for the classes. So it made it hard to follow a set pattern when Christian was finished with classes. He needed these notes because his students were being graded on their monologues from that day, and he had written down how well he'd felt they did, what they needed to improve, and what his first thought for a grade was. Fortunately he didn't have anything else planned for that day, so it was with a fairly casual pace he walked into the classroom.

The student was being so quiet that he didn't even notice him until Christian had picked up the papers and turned around to walk back to the door. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't see you." He took a moment to look at the young man and saw that student looked in a state of shock. "Is everything alright?" Christian walked to the desk and pulled a chair up to sit across from the boy.

Christian saw the paper in the boy's hand and spent a moment resisting the urge to peer over and read it. He wasn't entirely sure what could be on a piece of paper that would cause this reaction. Maybe it was a break up note, or perhaps he had just found out he was rejected by a college he really wanted to go to. If there was one thing Christian had learned was there were many things that could upset a person, for many reason. Best to be considerate.

It was obvious that the young man was dealing with some issue or another. "What's your name? I'm Christian, I teach the acting and drama classes." He was trying to break the tension that seemed to be there, and get the boy to open up to him somehow.

"I didn't have a normal upbringing, so I'm not sure if I had what you would call "the teenage life," but I did learn a little bit through it," he continued after Odion responded. "Maybe I'd be able to give some insight on whatever it is that is on your mind." This much was true. He had spent a fair bit of his earlier life being moved around and put on display for his father's job as a diplomat. After he had been found as a Meta, he had gone to the equivalent of Hammel in Sweden. Once he graduated from there, he went one to basically travel the world and learn.

Most of his learning somehow came back to acting, but some of the wisest people he had ever met had taught him that acting wasn't pretending. Acting was looking at how someone else would behave and respond, and knowing them better than they know themselves. It is a true form of empathy. The trick to good acting, is that people don't think you're acting.

"If you don't want to talk though, that's fine. It'd be rather rude of me to try and force you to tell me your secrets," he finished his side with. Then he sat patiently, a neutral look on his face, waiting for Odion to make a decision.

Despite not noticing Odion when Christian had entered, he wasn't completely oblivious. The boy was sending all the signals an audience would send when they're bored. He was surprised slightly by the non sequitur about rude people, and even more surprised by the question that followed.

Stopping a moment, Chris looked the boy over again. Crossed arms were a sign that he was closing himself off. His eyes were sending a message that seemed almost a challenge. He was leaning back in his chair, creating distance. His body posture up to now was basically screaming "You don't know me, you don't know my life." Giving a mental sigh, the drama teacher cocked his head slightly to the left.

"Unmade how? Unmade in the sense that your family basically disowned you because of a difference? Unmade meaning you had to change yourself into a completely different person to just cope with the world around you? Unmade in that one day you realize everything around you is a lie and the world is out to get you, make you suffer, chew you up and spit you out? Unmade as in everything about the identity you've built for yourself is wrong, you realize you were never that person, and you were simply pretending? Not for everyone else's sake but for your own? To protect yourself because you know it hurts so much more to be rejected than to lie to yourself?"

He said this in an even tone, only allowing a little emotion to creep into his voice, holding the student's gaze, his expression staying even. He blinked freely, not bothering to try a staring contest. At the end of his questions he held Odion's gaze. He waited about two seconds to let the silence settle, and then he stood up casually. "Yes. I have," was his only reply as he walked back to the teacher's desk. He had to take some calming breaths, he could feel a number of emotions welling up after that.

It was almost like confessional at the Catholic church he'd attended long ago in Spain. Admitting all the wrongs and hoping that someone, be it God, the priest, your family, the world at large, or even the janitor you passed by. It was painful, but felt good to know that they were out there. To know that it wasn't some secret, even if it changed nothing.

After he got to the desk he sat down, going to his papers. He could do the work here just as easily as anywhere else. After a few seconds of further silence he looked up and said "But I can't have any idea what you're going through. Because I'm just an old man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and therefore my life experiences are completely inapplicable." He didn't say it sarcastically, or even angrily. He said it as someone who knew the feeling of being alone in the world. Someone who had once thought reaching out was impossible.

Christian was worried about his words. They were strong ones, and could be seen in many ways. He honestly just wanted to help, but if the boy interpreted them to be mocking or angry, that wouldn't surprise him. However, anger might be good too. If the boy let himself go due to anger, that could have just as healthy an effect as talking to a person because of trust.

He looked back down to his papers and began reading through them again. "I'll be grading these for a while. You're welcome to stay here. Talk if you want, sometimes talking at someone is better than talking to them." With that he went silent, rereading notes, noting grades, and going into more depth on what each student could work on better.

Not looking up, Christian held a silence as he tried to remember why he'd given this student a B for their monologue. After a moment he recalled they'd stumbled over their monologue, and had broken character when they forgot their lines. A poor habit. After he finished with that thought, he brought his mind back to the boy's words. This boy would be incredible in a debate team. He was good at avoiding giving information out, but was obviously gathering it further. It reminded him of the people his father had met as a boy. They'd ask all sorts of things, but never tell anything. For someone so young to have become so talented at it...

"I don't need to know the details of what you're going through to be comfortable in the assumption that I have experience in my life that can relate to it. Just like I know that I don't have to know the murder or evidence in CSI to know who the murderer is. It's the one character who they have a short conversation with at the beginning, and then don't have anything to do with until the end again. My experience isn't just limited to my life either. I've lived quite a few different lives." He paused a moment and finally looked up from the papers.

He spoke in a monotone, loud enough that Odion could hear if he chose to listen, but soft enough that it seemed to barely float across the room. He had a total stillness, only his mouth moving, only his eyes expressing anything. "My father was killed by my uncle, and married my mother. Later my girlfriend went insane and committed suicide. Then my uncle killed my mother, and I killed him, only to die shortly after. I was born under a bad sign, left to die as a baby, and raised by a shepherd. Then I killed my father without knowing it, became king, and married a woman who I later found to be my recently widowed mother. I had AIDS, taught at MIT, and met a drag queen after being beat by thugs in an alley. I fell in love with this Angel, who taught me how to live my life, before dying. I was a complete fool who was turned into a scarecrow by someone trying to save my life. I was a transexual transvestite from the planet of Transylvania who created a perfect body to love. I was a young boy who had to steal from people, in a pickpocket gang, to get by for my whole life. I was Judas Iscariot, and betrayed a the son of God, for some silver, and yet was still forgiven by him."

Christian had no expectation of the boy to bother listening to his list of roles. Honestly he doubted Odion would recognize half the characters he was referring to, if he recognized the plays. But he had a different goal. As he said these things, he watched. He observed the young man, who was so closed off, and protective. "I know more about what you've gone through than you realize. I don't know the details, but I've lived a hundred different lives, in a hundred different ways. I also lived my own life during those times, and believe it or not, I didn't get to run around and play 'Ring around the posies' all day."

He kept his gaze on the boy still, letting a silence occur yet again. He hadn't moved at all since he began speaking. "I never said I cared about the youth here. I offered a hand to someone who was obviously down, because that's what I'd hope someone might do for me, even if I don't expect anything like that to happen. Because I am and always will be the optimist. The hoper of far-flung hopes. The dreamer of improbable dreams. I offered you a hand, not in the hopes that someone would later offer me one, but with the thought that by lending you a hand, you can then extend yours to someone in the future."

Finally, Christian moved. He looked back down at his papers, and went back to reading them. Odion was very good at controlling his reactions and was hardly easy to read, however Christian was the son of a politician and had been acting for a long time. He'd seen a number of very subtle signs. Now he had to put them together to make a full picture. It was almost impossible to give absolutely nothing away, and while the boy was good, he was young still. He hadn't picked up his talent from television, he'd had to use it for real life applications.

He was honestly caught slightly off guard by the jab at his acting. Not offended, not even insulted. Just surprised. He'd have plenty of directors who were far more brutal than this boy, far more intimidating, and for louder. He'd had his acting skills torn to shreds by many folks. Honestly, he was confident in his abilities. He wasn't performing twice a day on Broadway, but he felt no real desire to do the same show for months at a time in one place. What caught him off guard was that the boy was suddenly addressing him directly. His mannerism were a little different now. He didn't seem to be trying to talk down to the teacher, he was almost trying to to talk him.

He was also slightly amused that the boy thought he was lying at the end. "I don't know what you're going through. Well, rather I don't know the exact details. I know that I have enough knowledge that I can help you through it. And no, that isn't bragging. It's simply a fact." He let the boy have his cynical thoughts to that, and then continued "I'm a nobody in the sense that I can be almost anybody. No one isn't important. Do you realize how difficult Hamlet would be to perform without having a messenger come on in Act Four to spout exposition? He is such a minor person, he isn't even given a real name. But he has such an important part to play, letting us know that Hamlet is returning the next day, spurring the story from a standstill, to having the king begin planning actions. Is he a nobody?"

He wished Odion understood what he was trying to say. He honestly did. Once upon a time he had been incredibly cynical. He'd hated his powers, hated himself for having powers, and hated the idea that he couldn't be normal. He thought anyone trying to get close to him was trying to take advantage of him. It had been a cold, harsh time. One he didn't care to repeat. He'd lied about being an optimist. When he was in public, that's how he presented himself. He honestly did hope things would go how they were supposed to. But in his heart he never expected them. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, was the old adage.

"Then when I sit here and look into your eyes, tell me if I'm lying." Lying was easy. The biggest fault people made with lies is they try to freeze their expressions, keep any tells from leaking. People who tell the truth, they don't worry about that, because it doesn't matter. Hell, acting is lying, just in a less specific sense. "I'm a Meta. I have the ability to read minds. It's a power that came about when I was thirteen years old, and I discovered it when I heard my dad thinking about where he had hidden the ice cream. I was grounded for a week for eating it without permission. Two days into it, a recruiter arrived and I was enrolled in Kocher." He kept a slightly lazy eye contact, not boring his gaze into the younger man's eyes, but letting his eyes sort of drift around his face, never really breaking eye contact, but never really worrying about looking right into his eyes for the entire time.

When he finished his story, he paused. He'd spent a summer taking classes on cold reading. He honestly thought they were really only much good for party tricks. This boy was incredibly difficult to read. But there had been little things. Chris' reason for listing off characters was to see if any of them caused a reaction. That's why he mostly avoided names, so that it was the actions of the characters he was bringing to the boy's mind. That was something he'd been good at. Leading people in such a way it let them think they were in control. It was not an easy thing, and could easily backfire. But he felt confident that this was successful so far. As he'd learned from unfortunate first hand knowledge, the vain were the easiest to lead on. Odion was not dumb by any means, but he was either overestimating his own intelligence, or underestimating Christian's experience. That being said, Chris was well aware he could be doing the same and falling for a trap of the exact same manner.

When he called out the characters there had been a slight tensing of the jaw with being raised by a shepherd. At first Christian had thought that had something to do with his upbringing, perhaps a farm boy, but had dropped it as the barest sign that Odion was setting his poker face. When he mentioned being beaten by thugs in an alley, Odion's bored gaze had seemed to slip into focus for a brief instant, though they never actually shifted. His transsexual transvestite from Transylvania had been put there as humor. The fact the boy hadn't given any sign of confusion or amusement confirmed he was stonewalling. Finally his reference to the pickpocket gang in Oliver had allowed him to spot a slight... Almost forced relaxation. It wasn't that he changed his posture or stiffened, it was that he suddenly appeared to be slightly more bored. There had been other tells in his other words, but many didn't seem to hold much more meaning, and only played into slightly confirming or denying his thoughts.

"Isn't a teacher the best place to do it? If I were a politician I'd never be able to have anyone trust me. If I were a soldier, I'd have to follow the orders of those above me, and obey their agenda. Where else can I best instill hope to people? What profession best allows to constantly show someone 'yes, there is hope. There is tomorrow. There are amazing and wonderful things to still be discovered. I may not be the president or an astronaut, but I can be important, somewhere' and see your work be done?" He waited, grading another paper before talking again.

"I was interested in learning to pickpocket once. Maybe some time you can give me some pointers. It seems a nice skill to practice your dexterity with. Though I'm personally a fan of juggling myself." He had let his gaze stay on the papers and mentioned it as casually as if he were mentioning it had rained yesterday. Cold reading was a tricky skill. You had to use what little you did know to let them let loose more information. Christian doubted that this was going to work for very long with the boy, given how protective he was so far. Chris wanted to push harder, just tell the boy to stop assuming no one else could help him, and give it one try. But he knew that wouldn't work. It'd only serve to anger the boy and push him away. Right now his best chance was to let the boy thing he had control and see what he might let slip trying to regain control from Chris' 'mind reading' power.

Oh what a tangled web we weave when we first practice to deceive.

A challenge. Not quite a direct challenge, but very close. This was a change. Instead of Odion deflecting, now he was apparently trying to move onto the attack. Christian noted this as he looked passively into Odion's eyes. "Who would you like me to play then? I've got a few scripts here too. I'm sure there's a two person dialogue, let's do that." He had a bit of an idea for a new direction, but was somewhat uncertain if it would work. He pulled out two books with dialogues, monologues, and short scenes. He quickly flipped through the first, picking a page about halfway into the book.

"Here. Two person scene. A young man is talking to his pastor about why God allows bad things to happen, and why no one seems to do anything to stop them." He handed the book to Odion, and stood up. He flipped his book to the proper page and then took some steps, stopping about the middle of the room. "Read the pastor's part, if you would, Martin. "

He specifically chose to ignore his other questions and comments for now, bringing his focus in completely on this instead. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind for a moment. Then he read. "Pastor Jacob, mother told me that the Williams are gone now, since those mean men came to town. Why don't I see Josh anymore?" He then looked at the student and waited for him to read his part.


[[OOC: I don't have a specific dialogue for this, so I'm intending to just improv it, if you'd be willing to do the same.]]

Chris was pleased that the student had chosen to do participate. However he stopped performing for a moment and said "Hold on, stop for a moment. Think about what you want, and then decide how you'll get that. What is it that Jacob wants from this? The Robert's best friend was killed by bandits who came to town. He came to the pastor for closure, and to try and understand what is happening. So tell me what Jacobs wants, and how he'll get it. But do it through the character."

With that, he read his lines again. He hoped that the young man would actually take the words and use them. His first read through of that had been somewhat dry, and almost soap opera performance. It was showing what he thought the teacher wanted to see, not what the character would do.