Those Who Make Trouble (Sean)
Mar 18, 2013 12:57:22 GMT -5
Post by Vincent Meian on Mar 18, 2013 12:57:22 GMT -5
Normally, Vincent would be in the middle of a training session at ten in the morning on a Monday. However, today he'd arrived to not only a number of excused absences (the flu being rather prevalent this season) but a veritable stack of files in his staff mailbox. Seven, to be exact, and all of them with the headmistress' stamp of approval. Considering that the trainer had been here all of six and a half months and normally ran sessions one-on-one... this was a fairly sizable increase in his workload.
Thankfully, Lei would likely graduate in the summer, giving both of them room for that sigh of relief.
Rather than taking all of the papers to his office, the Japanese man had laid out the files carefully on the coffee table of the staff lounge, grabbed himself his fourth cup of coffee for the day, and sat down on the couch looking over the names on each of the dossiers.
Celena Grace, Empathy
Harmony Muller-Barton, Teleportation
Jayden Reed, Retrocognition
Jesse Adams, Dream and Memory Manipulation
Lucy Serrano, Melanokinesis
Mia Bell, Weather Manipulation
Samuel Rixon, Pyrokinesis
Almost every one of these trainer's files were thick with session notes, incident reports (both legal and regarding school policies), personality profiles, and trainer transference forms. It had taken Vincent almost four hours just to give them all a cursory reading, and already he was wondering if the headmistress was upset with him (or something to that effect). The only student who only seemed remotely without incident was the retrocognitor, and he'd happened to switch trainers simply because his other was out of state for a few months. Then there was the empath, but... well, Vincent had a bad history with empaths. (They made him nervous.)
Everyone else... well...
Dropping the last file (Sam's) back on the table with a sigh, the tall man ran his fingers through his hair with his elbow s resting on his knees. This was partially to shove the dark locks out of his face (of which he was somewhat successful) and partially to relax his eyes from all the reading he'd been doing. That wasn't working terribly well.
Hearing the door of the lounge open and close, Vincent straightened himself up and looked to the psychiatrist that had just entered the room. His expression and bearing shifted to one of slight relief, and he stood, taking up his own coffee mug in his hand as he did so. "Good morning, Sean," he greeted. "May I offer you some coffee and hum bao?"
He gestured to the bamboo container on the counter, which apparently had been rifled through while he'd been reading. The trainer vaguely remembered giving permission for the fruit-filled pastries to be eaten throughout the morning, but he didn't remember who had asked, such had been his focus. He was sure there were still a few left, however; he'd made quite a few the previous night.
Thankfully, Lei would likely graduate in the summer, giving both of them room for that sigh of relief.
Rather than taking all of the papers to his office, the Japanese man had laid out the files carefully on the coffee table of the staff lounge, grabbed himself his fourth cup of coffee for the day, and sat down on the couch looking over the names on each of the dossiers.
Celena Grace, Empathy
Harmony Muller-Barton, Teleportation
Jayden Reed, Retrocognition
Jesse Adams, Dream and Memory Manipulation
Lucy Serrano, Melanokinesis
Mia Bell, Weather Manipulation
Samuel Rixon, Pyrokinesis
Almost every one of these trainer's files were thick with session notes, incident reports (both legal and regarding school policies), personality profiles, and trainer transference forms. It had taken Vincent almost four hours just to give them all a cursory reading, and already he was wondering if the headmistress was upset with him (or something to that effect). The only student who only seemed remotely without incident was the retrocognitor, and he'd happened to switch trainers simply because his other was out of state for a few months. Then there was the empath, but... well, Vincent had a bad history with empaths. (They made him nervous.)
Everyone else... well...
Dropping the last file (Sam's) back on the table with a sigh, the tall man ran his fingers through his hair with his elbow s resting on his knees. This was partially to shove the dark locks out of his face (of which he was somewhat successful) and partially to relax his eyes from all the reading he'd been doing. That wasn't working terribly well.
Hearing the door of the lounge open and close, Vincent straightened himself up and looked to the psychiatrist that had just entered the room. His expression and bearing shifted to one of slight relief, and he stood, taking up his own coffee mug in his hand as he did so. "Good morning, Sean," he greeted. "May I offer you some coffee and hum bao?"
He gestured to the bamboo container on the counter, which apparently had been rifled through while he'd been reading. The trainer vaguely remembered giving permission for the fruit-filled pastries to be eaten throughout the morning, but he didn't remember who had asked, such had been his focus. He was sure there were still a few left, however; he'd made quite a few the previous night.
