TIME WARP: New Student

[Leila Gold]

February 1996: Leila Gold has only been at Hammel Institute for a month, and she's only just learning some of the downsides of being a metahuman.

In the corner of a library sat a young teenage girl who was crying. Around her was a field of paper, pens, paperclips, and even books. Some of it was flying in a slow circle on the ground, piling up against the girl's legs, which she had clutched to her chest.

"God, why is this so hard?" she said in a voice just quieter than a shout. She threw her head back and banged it against the wall, which only served to add to her growing headache.

"Ow," she moaned. Then she threw out her lower lip and pouted.

She was at a new school with new people and she didn't know anyone. Her head was hurting and everywhere around her things kept flying up into the air, and she couldn't manage to keep anything together anymore. And every time she got angry it only got worse. Any emotion seemed to set it off, so she'd resigned herself to never feeling anything again and went to go sit in the library and read. But of course that didn't work well, and the book had actually flown out of her hands as she tried to read it.

"I'm never, ever going to be able to get anything done here. Never ever. I hate being meta! I hate it!"

[OOC: This is open to anyone who would have had a character at Hammel around this time. Feel free to hop in.]

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean didn’t spend a great deal of time in the library, since he didn’t have free periods in the traditional sense; his work day consisted of meetings, appointments, disciplinary sessions (he still wasn’t quite certain how those had been added to his job description after the fact), and paperwork. Still, Hammel kept a better library than the local Pilot Ridge public library, and so when he was in the mood for a new book, he usually paid a visit.

However, he was distracted from the stacks by angry thoughts and frustrated shouting. Still holding the copy of Virtually Normal he’d been perusing, he walked toward the person who was in so much misery. Arriving, his eyes settled on the young blonde girl, looking quite familiar in terms of posture and sentiment, just as she finished her diatribe. Pens, paper, other supplies and a couple of books were floating around her, and while telekinesis was a first thought, that was too much control and power for someone struggling that much. Aerokinesis perhaps? Unless they were just illusions but he was shielding and so that would be impossible. Besides, he detected no hallucinations from her. He’d go with aerokinesis until proven otherwise.

He stepped over to her and spoke kindly. “You know, I used to think the same thing.”

[Leila Gold]

Startled, Leila looked up. And up and up and up.

The person in front of her was too old to be a student, which meant he was probably a teacher. Or some other staff member. Maybe even the librarian--maybe he was coming over here to tell her not to destroy all the books.

Sniffing and blinking back tears (she wasn't going to cry in front of someone, she was thirteen after all, and teenagers didn't cry), she frowned.

"Yeah?" she said accusingly. "And I bet you're going to tell me I have it easy, that it's not like my power is killing me, or that just because my family still loves me that makes everything okay. Well guess what. It's not okay."

She stood. As she was getting more angry, the books around her were flying up again and her hair kept getting whipped in front of her face. She pulled it back with one hand and held it so that she would still be able to see the person in front of her.

"It's not okay, because I had to come all the way across the country, and I don't even get to bring my pets and all my stuff, and I don't have any friends here, and I don't even get to see my family again for ever. So what is this big miracle thing that made you think it was all going to be okay? Huh?"

If he was going to throw her out of the library, it might as well be for a good reason. And she was far too angry and upset at this point to think reasonably, like considering the fact that if she was cut off from her books she wouldn't even have those as a source of comfort. Since she'd come to Hammel she had basically read all the children's books through again, those familiar and new. When she was lost in a book, at least she wasn't dealing with all the problems she was now facing.

"It seemed so cool, you know?" she said quietly now, calming after her first outbreak. "I would go on an adventure and make new friends and fight bad guys. But it's not like that. And I just want to go home."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath wouldn’t patronize her by offering her a handkerchief before she began to cry, only afterward. And since she was blinking back tears, stubbornly not allowing herself to cry, he didn’t reach for the handkerchief in his back pocket. Instead he remained patient, still speaking in a calm tone even though she yelled. “Actually, I won’t tell you any of that because it isn’t all right just because you have something comparatively better to some other people. It’s difficult, and anyone who says it isn’t is lying.”

Now that she had stood, there was no point in him sitting down, and thus he remained standing. He didn’t interrupt her during her outburst, instead he let her get it out of her system before he spoke again. “I’m not going to kick you out of the library, although the librarian might come over later; if he does, I’ll talk to him for you.” They all needed to let off some steam sometimes, and the first few months at Hammel were usually a difficult period of adjustment.

They had been for him, once upon a time. Everything that she listed: being in a new place in a different part of the country – although she had come farther than he had – being separated from family, not being able to control powers, having no friends yet. It was all familiar and her frustration was understandable.

Not everyone would turn those feelings inward as he had.

His expression was kind and he nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean. And I’m sorry it’s so disappointing right now. Being meta isn’t as easy as the media would have us believe; it’s not like comics at all.”

[Leila Gold]

Because she wasn't exactly in a listening mood, Leila completely ignored the first time the man tried to speak to her. She merely continued her rant. Once she'd taken the opportunity to stop and think for a moment, though, she realized that he was actually agreeing with her. Which was weird. She was used to arguing much more than this before she got her way.

"Thanks," she said grudgingly, finally accepting his kindness. "I don't really want to have to get kicked out or anything." She glanced around a bit sheepishly for a moment. "Is he usually pretty mean, the librarian?"

Finally Leila had calmed down enough that the wind had reverted to only a slight breeze--only enough to ruffle a few papers. She bent down and started cleaning up the mess she'd made. "Comics? You still read comics? But you're like...old!" She wrinkled her nose up as she tried to think about this. "But yeah, you're right. It's no fun having superpowers or anything. 'Specially since everyone's got 'em. You're not even special, and there's no big adventures, and there's all these really bad headaches." She was starting to get one now, in fact, building up pressure right behind her eyes, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. Instead she just pressed on, picking up books and stacking them on a nearby table.

"Thanks for the talk," she said with a sigh. "Do you have to do this a lot?" She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Do some of the other kids cry?"

[Michael Warren]

The library, young Michael's newest safe haven. It was nice and quiet which made his constant headaches seem less severe, and they were a lot less students in there than most other places in the school, which meant a lot less ridicule, bullying, and fighting due to the lack of control over his powers. Mike usually wasn't one to run or hide from a fight, but sometimes, especially when his head hurt the most, enough was enough, and he'd seek out a nice place to attempt to relax. The young manipulator of memory, had absolutely no control of his so called power, and hadn't been able to use it sine he had arrived at Hammel.

Michael's safe haven unfortunately wasn't as safe as he had hoped considering he had just had a book thrown at him. Michael was furious. The enraged thirteen year old snatched up the book, and stomped over towards the area the book had come from. His head was still in plenty of pain, but his anger easily overpowered his pain, and he was ready to dent his assailant's head in with their book.

Michael was pretty disappointed when the only person in the area the book had soared from was a girl who looked to be about his age. He couldn't hit a girl, and even if he was the kinda guy that could hit a female he still couldn't, she was currently in a heated discussion with a... teacher, or some other kind of Hammel employee.

A lot more nosy than his future self, and a lot less callous, Michael hid behind a bookshelf and listened to what the two were talking about. The angry child planned on waiting until the man that could get him into trouble to leave. Michael always put people into two categories, can and get get him into trouble. Once he left Mikey would at least give the girl an earful for chucking books at him. Of course he didn't mind ease dropping until he could do that.

Michael couldn't believe what he had heard and could no longer keep his comments to himself. Their conversation had calmed down but Michael was about to turn it right back up. He popped up from behind the bookshelf, a look of disbelief and annoyance on his face. "What's wrong with you?! I can't believe you were over here crying about having a power, I can't even get my stupid power to work and for some reason everyone here hates me for it! Oh and here's your stupid book back! Next time you throw something at me It'd be nice if you didn't hit me in the freakin head!" Michael's rant was pretty loud, and he wondered if the teacher would show him the same leniency he showed the girl and not kick him him out of the library. He also wondered what he'd say about the way he just spoke to another student.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The psychiatrist shook his head, illustrating his answer to her question regarding the librarian’s general disposition. “No, he’s not mean. He just doesn’t care for excessive disruptions.” He was the typical librarian in that regard. “However, should he take offense, I can explain the situation, and he will let you be.”

The mess of little concern to the telepath; beyond the fact that this wasn’t his personal space, he empathized with students new to Hammel and having difficulty with their powers. Still, he wouldn’t prevent her from cleaning up after herself, and he moved out of the way to allow her to do so. He’d always felt strange when adults would pick up after him during his time as a student, although that had taken another form entirely. He chuckled lightly at her response to the notion that he knew about comics. “I don’t, actually. But they’re popular fare among the students and I keep apprised.” His nephew also watched those superhero cartoons on Saturday mornings.

He nodded his understanding, particularly with the last of her statements. “All I can say is that most likely, you’ll get used to the headaches. I used to get whoppers but they’ve gotten better with age.” That wasn’t to say that he never got them, but he could cope with them better and they were a rarer occurrence. “And I wouldn’t say you’re not special. There still aren’t that many of us.”

He smiled sympathetically and nodded. He moved to sit down at one of the nearby tables and offered a chair to her. “A lot of them do, actually. It’s not easy, going through this. As I said, anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.”

Unfortunately, not everyone focused their discomfort inwardly, which was illustrated by the teenage boy who made an appearance and gave an outburst. While Sean tried to be patient, particularly with other psychics, he wouldn’t stand for harsh criticism for other students. He turned to the boy and spoke a bit more sternly. “Nothing is wrong with her; she’s adapting, as do we all. And there is nothing wrong with you either. But you owe her an apology for speaking that way to her, and then if you wish, you can join our powwow. Trust me when I say that I understand what you’re going through,” Specifically, this boy, “but that isn’t an excuse to lash out at others for struggling.”

[Leila Gold]

Everything was apparently sorted, or at least Leila felt it was all turning out all right. She wasn't looking forward to increased headaches or anything and she wasn't sure she believed everything this guy was saying, but at least she felt a little bit better. Dubious, but better.

That is, until another kid came in and started screaming at her. Immediately the wind picked up again and all the books went flying out of her hands again. Desperately she tried to pull them back and keep all the papers from flying around, but it was hopeless. She was too upset to properly control the wind, and she could feel a headache growing again. "No, no, no, no," she said, starting in a whisper and growing into a shout as she finally stood still and just put her hands over her eyes.

But she wasn't about to let this guy accuse her of things and then feel like he had the upper hand. She may be new to Hammel, but that didn't mean she had to lay down and just take things. "Shut up, just...just shut up, okay? You don't even know...it's like I can't switch it off! I didn't want to hit you in the head, it just happened. Maybe if I hit you now it would be on purpose, but then I'd actually have to be trying, so I guess you're probably safe, huh? Because I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm just going to mess everything up. You think you could do better? I can't even go outside sometimes because I'm worried that I'll end up doing something and people will get hurt. And then when I stay inside everything just turns into a mess."

Then she turned back to the teacher. "Look, you've been really nice and everything, but I don't need a...a powwow. Just because I'm having a hard time doesn't mean I need to sit around in a happy little circle and try to talk about feelings and crap like that. I can handle this. And isn't it, like, bad to talk about feelings and stuff? I think it would be better if I just trained myself not to feel anything, then nothing would ever get out of control and I just would be, you know. Okay."

She forced herself to take another deep breath and calm down. The pressure building up in her head, though, made that difficult. "Ow," she moaned. "Ow, my head. Stupid, stupid power!"

Frowning, she plopped back down on the floor and drew her knees back up to her chest, the papers settling to the floor around her as she managed to control herself again. The wind picked up in tiny bursts again, though, when she developed the hiccups. She was too tired and worn out to want to clean up again anymore.

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Late addition picture of pre-teen Leila. She is dubious of everything.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“He doesn’t know,” the psychiatrist agreed, his tone still patient and gentle with her. Because of the shouting between the two students, Sean quickly turned to see if they had disturbed the librarian, but the other man was either engrossed in a task and hadn’t noticed, or he was giving them a pass because the telepath was involved.

Yelling about side effects also rarely resulted in understanding between parties. Instead, it tended to result in resentment, potential headaches, and a complete breakdown in communication because of the wide variety of side effects and Billy goats Gruff Syndrome; most side effects looked better in comparison to one’s own, when one was first learning control. However, Michael seemed to calm down and walked away from the psychiatrist’s offer to chat with him; that left the telepath alone with Leila. As he had been a few moments before.

“Actually, it isn’t bad to talk about your feelings. Being able to communicate your needs is healthy.” Sean had lived through the 1950s, a decade where the entire nation had bought into the idea that hiding feelings under a layer of false happiness would end their problems; it was an era he hoped to never repeat. The telepath then pulled out a chair and sat down at one of the study tables, making himself comfortable; as comfortable as he could be in the hard wooden chairs that were a bit too small for him. “And I can promise you that isn’t the solution to learning how to control your abilities. You don’t need to cut off part of yourself.”

She just had to have patience; it was an important lesson. Hearing her moan in pain, he reached into his pocket for his emergency pills; the two Acetaminophen tablets he kept with him. Since it wasn’t Aspirin, he had fewer qualms offering them to a child. “Would you like something to help with the headache?”

[Leila Gold]

Leila was entirely dubious about what this man was saying. She knew that teachers were supposed to have all the answers and were there to help you, but she also had a sneaking suspicion that most adults were faking it anyway and no one had any idea what was actually going on. So instead of trusting Sean's opinion about feelings, she merely looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. Before she could say anything further though, she squeezed her eyes shut against the headache.

When he offered her the pills, she raised her head again. "What are *hic* are those?" she asked, glancing at them. But she wasn't too afraid that they would be anything bad, since this was a teacher and all. Holding out her hand, she hiccuped again quietly.

After dry-swallowing the pills, she frowned and held her breath to try to get the hiccups to go away. "So, *hic*" she said, after completing this fruitless exercise, "I guess you think the powers are all natural and stuff, huh? This is just a part of who we are and we should accept it?"

She'd heard similar speeches from some of the other teachers, as well as plenty of people throughout her life saying that having a metahuman ability was unnatural. She'd started to develop an idea about the whole thing, though, and she was wondering if this person could answer her questions.

"So if this is natural and everything, and we should be able to deal with this and not scare everyone, why does everyone have to come to this special school? Shouldn't we be able to deal with it at home? Naturally?" In her defense, she is not trying to be argumentative, but really just wants an honest response.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath mimicked her expression, because he knew what she was thinking, and he didn’t want to lecture her. While he didn’t have all of the answers, and aside from Robert, didn’t believe that anyone could, he had confidence in his knowledge base and his experience. This was an area he knew quite well, although he understood what it was to be her age and full of doubts.

“Acetaminophen,” the psychiatrist explained, since it was generic brand. He then added, since she was too young to memorize drug names, “It’s Tylenol. It should help with your headache. It’s what I take.” He wouldn’t distribute anything harmful to students, but perhaps the reassurance of both the drug name and the fact that he took it himself (which explained why he had it in his pocket in the first place) would help.

It apparently did, since she took the pills after he placed them in her hand.

When she asked the question regarding his outlook, he nodded a single time. That was a fair description of his view. “Yes, I do. I also think that the longer we fight with who we are, the more miserable our lives will be. Side effects get worse when you fight them; they get better when you train.” That was a fact. His migraines had improved dramatically through his time at Hammel and more importantly, he was in control of his faculties.

Despite the fact that he knew how many felt about meta human abilities, such as his sister and his brother-in-law, he knew his outlook was the correct one. Acceptance was difficult, but it was right.

Sean then folded his hands in his lap. He listened to her question, detecting no challenge there, merely genuine curiosity. So he used his favorite analogy. A medical condition that was neither an illness or a disability. “Not everything natural should be done alone. Think of it like pregnancy and then birth: it’s natural, often it’s joyous and desired, but there are side effects that aren’t always pleasant, and it’s best to give birth with supervision and with someone to help you rather than doing it on your own. Powers are a bit like that. We can struggle our way through them, or we can learn from those who’ve come before us, which makes it easier. Most families simply can’t help enough with training, although they can provide emotional support which is important.”

He then smiled a half-smile. “As for why it has to be this school, it’s just a matter of convenience and numbers. There aren’t enough of us yet to open satellite schools. But someday.”

[Leila Gold]

Leila scrunched up her face at Sean's verification of her thoughts. Training. That was his big suggestion. Why couldn't this whole thing be easier? It was never this hard in any of the books or the movies. If you were born with a special gift, you were supposed to be born with the ability to use that gift. Or so she'd always thought. "I bet you never had problems with that sort of thing. Were you one of those good students who learned really fast?" Leila used to be one of them. Before she was thrown a curve ball.

Leila's hiccups had gone away of their own volition without her really noticing. She was too busy trying to understand the teacher's comments. The pregnancy imagery was not something she was altogether comfortable with. It was also not a really familiar idea. As an only child, she'd never seen or really dealt with pregnancy, and so she wasn't exactly sure how it happened. She knew you were supposed to be born in a hospital, but she'd also heard of people being born in the woods. "But we don't make all the pregnant ladies go live at the hospital," Leila said, cocking her head to one side. "They just go there every once in a while, right? For check-ups and stuff. You don't make people go live on their own without their families."

Frowning and rocking back and forth on her heels, Leila thought about this last comment. "Well, I guess it makes sense. I don't know. Isn't it hard to make sure you find everyone to come here? I bet that takes a lot of people. How do you know you didn't miss anyone?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean chuckled lightly, before bringing his hand to his mouth to cover his smirk. While he was aware that he gave off that impression, twenty-five years later and more capable, it was the complete opposite of the truth. “I learned academic subjects fast. I had plenty of trouble with power training.”

The pregnancy analogy was imperfect but it was also the area that was most similar to metahuman abilities, because the development of metahuman abilities was wholly unlike anything else. And when it became apparent that she was focusing on the differences rather than the similarities, the telepath shook his head and cut in, “No, but most pregnant women don’t require around the clock monitoring the way that untrained powers do. And some pregnant women do get sent to live elsewhere.” That wasn’t the point. “And when you’re pregnant, you have to follow a slew of rules that don’t apply to other people, and you follow them because the payoff is worth it.”

Ideally, if there were a better system, then children could stay with their families, but the system was as it was. Sean could only make the stay more tolerable.

“There are a lot of people involved, yes,” the telepath confirmed with a nod. The recruitment department had several people, and occasionally they had to enlist security for assistance. As for how they knew that they hadn’t missed anyone, the answer was simple. “It’s their job to know. They work hard at it, and there are a number of resources at their disposal.”

While the exact resources were always in fluctuation, and it wasn’t Sean’s department, the fact that there were resources was hardly a secret.