Slip of the Mind

[Lance Anderson]

His constant studying had taken a toll, his headaches were coming on and off. Accidentally tapping into others heads or more getting fragments of people. His bottled water next to his paper seemed to be nursed to keep himself from needing a break. He couldn’t be lacking on this paper especially when he was telling others on how they can get their papers done isn’t hard... but jeez, he head was obviously in a different place.



Lifting his blue eyes up to the crowd... his head slightly tinged as he heard someone think on their two different partners and lies, another on what was for lunch. Sipping his drink once again as he let his eyes wander. He... he isn’t bad looking thought he assumed he thought it to himself, his eyes darted away from the others as he brushed hair back his curls. Fearing to look up.

[James Neilson]

He was working on an assignment -- honestly, he really was, but James couldn’t resist letting his eyes wander after he had finished reading so many chapters that hardly seemed applicable to what he was trying to write. With the quiet buzz of conversation and turning pages around him, it was nearly impossible to keep his focus, and when a sudden thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but be interested in where it came from.

After all, he didn’t usually think about how good-looking guys were while he was staring at a trashcan.

It wouldn’t have been the first time that it happened, however. He still had more than his fair share of memories of training his abilities back at the Institute and falling victim to a telepath’s wandering mind. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder whose thought it had been, so with a curious glance around, he repeated a question in his mind a few times to see if anyone would pick it up: Who’s not bad-looking?

[Lance Anderson]

Pen furiously scribbling as he just knew it leaked out. How could of he been stupid? He knew that if he wasn’t focused he wouldn’t just hear, he’d speak his own. Why would he do that... especially those kinds of thoughts? He had lived for a while know and only a few slips in the Institute and really, the amount of telepath’s in and around there he could get away with thinking that... and looking at guys.



The addition to the scare, his mind caught more thoughts but this time... it felt like a response. Jeez, the guy heard specifically him. Maybe... if he just kept his head down and worked he wouldn’t even notice... heck, maybe he’d forget that he heard anything. Well, technically he didn’t If Lance just pretend he wasn’t able to do any of that stuff, it would just pass over.



Then why did he look up again?

Why? Why Lance? he shouted in his head. He was just being an idiot now. He was not listening to his sense and it was doing to much. Looking back down... just cause he heard him and he looked up didn’t mean anything. If his power went overload, a heap of people could hear him... maybe... maybe he could just pretend he heard himself? Yeah, that could work

[James Neilson]

James briefly considered which was more important: Finishing some research for a paper due in another week or trying to scope out whether he had accidentally gotten into the crossfire of a telepath and figuring out who it was. It wasn’t as if he needed to know, but then again, he hadn’t run into too many metas. Or, at the very least, too many who were public about it. And maybe there was something a bit reassuring about running into old classmates or other people who had passed through the Institute; he had always kept his head down when he had been there, preferring to focus on the schooling aspect of it all, and it meant that he hadn’t anticipated what life would be like once he was out among the rest of the world, where he wasn’t promised the chance to run into a meta around every corner.

For a long moment, he neither made eye contact with anyone nor did he hear another foreign thought pass through his head. Still, James didn’t return to his book quite yet, instead settling his gaze on a blond man sitting a bit away. He looked young enough that he could have slipped up, but he began talking to someone else at his table as another intrusive thought slipped across his mind.

Lance. Was that the name he’d gotten? James ducked his head to glance around once more, once again finding no one looking up and around his direction. Damn. Once more, he tried focusing on a thought, unsure if it would be picked up again: Relax. So, who’s the handsome guy?

[Lance Anderson]

Crap, crap, crap! He was thankful for the full room... not that the many noises made it better. Every slip was being picked up and could feel the sweat on his brow. Nervously wiping it away as he looked back at his paper... knowing he was not gonna get it done in his state. Study areas weren’t that great of him. If he studied too long his mind wandered and he gets stuck in man forms of being outed. Palming his eyes to try and refocus... that was when he heard someone back.

Obviously, not a telepath. It didn’t feel like a focused message... just a thought. Not like the sound of another telepath in your head. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful that it was another meta that heard or at least someone who didn’t have an issue with their mind being invaded. Now, he had two options... pretend he didn’t hear and just leave. Leave the guy alone who wouldn’t see him even if Lance could see the other. He may never of been on, but he was borderline invisible in this situation.

Mind focusing on the one person; No-one, never mind. Go about your day hoping this kind of stance would at least make him seem older and maybe just a wandering in the area. He could only do so much.

[James Neilson]

It really wasn’t as if James had much room to comment on a fellow meta’s wandering abilities. He had spent more than his fair share of time with his hands tucked in his pockets or rearranging seats just to avoid contact as best as he could. Any sort of tactile ability really wasn’t friendly to someone who was used to being able to clap someone on the back or even shake hands. (And that was usually the first tip-off people had about him, but somehow, it seemed slightly less offensive to refuse a polite gesture than it did to have someone later find out there had been a hundred opportunities for him to have hypnotized them.)

Still, telepaths were fun. It was an ability he both envied and pitied, being able to think of a hundred scenarios where it would have been both a blessing and a curse to have. When he got a snappy response back, James knew better than to try and refocus his mind onto them. He had no telepathic abilities to speak of, and unless the guy was purposely trying to pick him up, his thoughts were probably safely stuck in his own mind. Instead, he raised his hands a few inches off the table in a gesture of surrender, glancing around to see once more if anyone was looking up and at him.

But then again, he really couldn’t deny himself a little amusement. It had been a long, uneventful day, and now there was a chance of running into another meta. “Hey, Lance!”

[Lance Anderson]

Sipping his drink again... his head seemed less sore. Wasn’t like the pain was coming for his skill so he was just thankful that he wasn’t suffer a double-ended headache from this. Pawing at his eyes again, he could tell if he get more done. His eyes drifted up light as he watched the stranger raise his hands... he wasn’t talking to anyone (well, not in a traditional sense) so he could assume that was to him.

His stomach dropped when he literally called him out. He could feel the color drain from his face as he kept his nose down. No-one was with him, thus no-one knew he was there; Go Away. His hand rushed to his temples... knowing the volume would hit him back but he could only hope the message was enough.

[James Neilson]

He had been sort of expecting this Lance guy to respond with a smile, maybe joining him at his table to alleviate some of his boredom with the book, but in the back of James’ mind, he knew those were all lofty expectations. He had put enough work into trying to keep his own ability a secret from the people around him, and it wouldn’t have surprised him to find others doing the exact same. And perhaps calling out a name directionlessly across a room was a bit of a tip.

The next message came loud and clear, and James immediately winced, resisting the urge to rub his ears after it came. Sorry, sorry, came the gut reaction as he ducked his head down again. Then, with a small wave of passive-aggressiveness, he picked up his open book and set it in front of his face like a shield, once more glancing around the room. Don’t need to think so loud.

[Lance Anderson]

He evened the field... though the wave in his head was not worth the shout. He should of just walked away but was sure that was a tell, even in a room full of people. Taking a large mouthful of water as he heard the apology. Remaining silent, hoping he’d think he had left the room. Moving towards his bag, aspirin was the simple solution for now.

By the time he’d gotten a trio of pills on his tongue, he noticed he was gone somewhat. He never left, he just stayed away from sight... he could still hear him. He was still there; Told you to go about your day and you shout my name out here? Told you to leave and you are still in range? Maybe I wasn’t loud enough. This was probably the longest conversation he had had this week. Besides his roommates rant on noodles or something, Lance knew what his real issue was (not that he knew); Just leave me alone, I slipped up. Go

[James Neilson]

There didn’t seem to be a response to his apology, or at least none that he could have picked up. James had never quite figured out how telepaths worked and how well they could direct their messages (which provided him with some endless amusement about how things could have gone if all of their thoughts and conversations were broadcast to an entire room), but at least the other guy probably had a better view on him than he did.

A moment later, however, he picked up the annoyed thoughts that almost seemed to spark a hint of annoyance in his own mind. It certainly was strange, having someone else’s thoughts intruding as if they were coming from his own mind, but James brushed it off, instead leaning down to dig through his bag. If you’re going to keep slipping up, might want some Ibuprofen, he offered silently, working hard to keep the wolfish grin off his face. It was like a lazy trap to lure him out, but his determination was growing. Most of the people around were close to his age -- surely someone else would notice the appeal of having one damn friend who was a meta. I’ll leave you alone but it’s right here if you need it. And he placed the small bottle at the edge of his table, now unable to hide his grin as he determinedly stared down at his book.

[Lance Anderson]

Many things he had learned from the Institute was the way someone could lure you out. Though, the guy was taking a reverse look. It was the kind of trap a telepath would use on another. Hear what they need or want, tell them where it is and what happened next was up to the telepath. Taking a breath as he settled down; Slip ups happen... I’m fine. he didn’t need much now, he just needed a way to leave without being caught.

Clever... he commented Offering that, guessing this isn’t exactly a shock. Though you have given me more than enough to start probing threw a lie on his actual skill, he was merely a listener and a communicator, but Lance was spinning many lies here You don’t seem to be leaving... expecting me to waltz up and take pills from a stranger?

[James Neilson]

Alright, perhaps the temptation of something for the inevitable headache hadn’t been the greatest trap he could have set, but James couldn’t think of any other reason for the guy to get up and approach him or otherwise make himself obvious. There were a few people he had his eye on as potential subjects -- a guy sitting in the corner who hadn’t looked up once, a curly-haired guy, an older man who kept sparing fleeting glances around the room -- but approaching any one of them would have lost him the others, probably.

Well, he started thinking in return, trying to hide his smile behind his book, yeah. Unless you started carrying them around yourself. Know plenty of metas who don’t bother. Headaches seemed almost universal among the ones he had studied with most closely, given that they shared some sort of mental ability. What do you think I’m even going to do? Kidnap you?

[Lance Anderson]

This was lasting to long. Rubbing his temples (he’d seen it work before on others) as he felt the strain. Focusing when he had absorbed and sent out so much... it was taking a toll. He still needed to get back to his room and felt he would look like a zombie or worse. Yet, he wasn’t stopping the conversation I have some... he hoped for it to end there but it was the others probing (and that was coming from him) that kept him there.

Maybe, wouldn’t be a shock people were kidnapped and meta’s being kidnapped was like robbing a person and a weapon in one go Why can’t you just go? his eyes drifted up You obviously aren’t studying anymore. Just go and pretend this never happened

[James Neilson]

James’ lips pursed as if giving a second sign of surrender. If the guy didn’t need any pain killers, then he had lost whatever draw he had had. But it wasn’t a huge loss, was it? There were bound to be plenty of other people around school who had come out of the Institute. He was only a freshman so far -- maybe in another year or two, they would have been easier to parse out…

But the other guy continued the conversation, and he shifted in his seat, perking up slightly. If you’re grandpa over there, I don’t think it counts as kidnapping, he joked, once more trying to hide his smile from anyone who didn’t realize there was a conversation happening in his mind. If you’re Curly or Four-Eyes… well, I could arrange a kidnapping. Now he did grin before ducking his head down once more and rather hoping the thought had gotten lost. Sensing the annoyance again, James raised one hand without glancing up, as if silently gesturing that he was done. For now.

[Lance Anderson]

Looking at his paper just trying to play it cool to his joke, a nervous smile came across... that died to a shocked expression as this guy (who knew far too much) came onto him. In a sudden instinct a flurry of mixed of fear, panic and deny flooded threw the connection that made him physically wince as his attempt to grab his water instead pushed the bottle off. Panting as he hid from view picking it up.

Wrong guy, not... not he wasn’t finishing the thought. Shoving rather roughly his things in his bag as he stood up. He needed the to disconnect... he needed to get out of his range. Flushed and yet colors face as he nervously looked for an exit that wasn’t past the guy.