I need a time out {Anya}

[Izzy James]

Training session. Izzy's first private one, at least, he was pretty certain that it was the first one he'd had since his arrival at Hammel. But his memory, especially of "firsts" and "lasts" was pretty hazy. Even worse, of late, since his power seemed to be taking more and more control over his life. It was getting to the point where Izzy might as well wear his cell phone strapped to his wrist.

The blonde teenager looked out of place. He wore workout clothes, standard t-shirt and loose sweat pants. But he looked even more disheveled than he usually did. He kept looking at the two watches he'd strapped to his left arm, double checking them against his cell phone pocket and the clock hanging on the wall. Rings had started to gather under his eyes, mostly from stress than lack of sleep. His left eye sported a black ring, swelling far more than Izzy had anticipated, thus proving that Mia really could punch when she wanted to.

"Am I late?" he wondered. He checked his watches again, not quite remembering if he'd just checked them or not. Same time it was just a few seconds ago. Sighing, Izzy ran a hand through his hair. At this rate, they were probably going to ship him off to the special wing for special students. Wasn't there some kind of underground facility? Yeah, that seemed like a good place for people who were essentially operating under a different timeline.

"This'll be fixed," muttered Izzy. "My trainer should be able to help me fix this. Yeah, that's it."

Right. He just needed training. That was all. A few sessions and he'd just be back to occasionally missing meals and showing up a few moments late for class.

The door opened. Izzy turned a little too fast, more than a little anxious.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya never ran especially late. She'd walked from the staff room while limping, holding a stick and carrying a cup of coffee, and suddenly it felt like half the school was determined to run into her. She kept her calm but felt quietly furious that she was taking too much time to get to her very important solo training session. She'd dismissed her other students for private study on the training field in order to keep her focus strictly on Izzy.

She managed to get to her training room one and a half minutes late, and bustled inside, frowning. "I'm very sorry Mr. James, were you waiting long?" She asked politely, setting her bag down on the desk and resting her stick against the desk. After a couple of rustlings, she pulled out a file from her bag and opened it up, swinging down into her seat. "This is your file, I'll be updating it regularly during our sessions." She smiled, and gave it a quick read through before sipping her coffee.

"Take a seat, Izzy." She gestured at the one by her desk. "Before we jump into physical training, I'd like to ask for what your opinion is of your power control." She lent back and gave the boy a reassuring smile. He seemed worried, and the black eye did nothing to convince her that everything was under control. "And has someone seen to that?" She added, nodding at the eye. "Sometimes physical injury weakens control on a power."

Though not her leg, thankfully. It was just irritating, that was all.

"My name is Miss Vasiliev, and I use my ability often to help guide students such as yourself through rough patches in training. I'm a power suppressor." Anya introduced herself politely, as was necessary. "Until we've sorted out the kinks in your power, we'll be doing solo sessions. Then, depending on your rate of skill, I may well put you in joint grouping with two other students who have control issues." Evan and Sammy, mainly. But for now, she wanted to get Izzy's confidence up, as well as hear from his own mouth what he thought the problem was.

[Izzy James]

"Err, not long, I think," said Izzy. He turned to look at the power trainer who'd just arrived. At least she looked... together, which was more than Izzy could say for himself. He blinked blearily, like someone who'd just woken up from a nap, then reached up to rub at his eyes. This was definitely not how he'd expected his first power training to go.

"Time's different for me," explained Izzy. He shrugged. "But it hasn't felt like long."

Folders. Files. All organization and discipline. It forced Izzy to relax, his shoulders slumping and a breath going out of him. Still bedraggled, still looking less than perfect, but much more himself than he had moments before. There was something, someone, to latch onto now.

"What? The eye? Oh, yeah, it's just, this is nothing," he waved it off. "I ran into something," Mia's fist. "Nothing to worry about at all."

Other questions, like how he felt about his power control: "I really can't control it. Like, at all. I mean, I can sometimes turn it on or something, but it's random. The other day I tried to slow down time around this lunch tray, and instead I sped it up so it smacked right into a girl. And after that, I," he swallowed, "I kind of slowed down time in the middle of swimming and it sort of," he waved his hands. "Yeah, that. But it packs a punch, if that means anything."

Nods, more acceptance. More relief, making Izzy relax more and more as Anya kept talking.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Well, that's something." Anya said brightly, fixing her gaze on Izzy as he explained his control. Hmm, sounded like she had a long way to go with this teen, but that was understandable. Time control was one of the more difficult powers to control, along with telepathy. Lacing her hand around a pen, she gave a quick scribble down of what he'd said, then shut the file closed.

"Alright, Izzy." She said with a soft voice. "If you'd like to come with me, we'll start training." Rising up from her desk, she moved towards a cupboard, and began rustling around. After a few minutes of nothing but clanking and muffled noise, she finally produced an hourglass, and set it up on a small table.

"The first thing we're going to do is get it so your power only focuses on one thing. It makes it easier to control and is a good first step." She gestured at the hourglass, while the sand slowly began to pour from the top to the bottom. "Your task for today is to try and stop the hourglass from pouring the sand out, without stopping time in the rest of the room." She limped over to the corner, then sat on the edge of her desk. "I'll talk you through it, don't worry."

She took a breath, and flashed an encouraging smile at Izzy, trying to keep him relaxed. "I'd like you to imagine a bubble around the hourglass, and in that bubble time has stopped. Keep focusing on this bubble and nothing else. Not the sky, not what you had for breakfast, just the bubble. What does it look like? How big is it? Watch the grains of sand suddenly slow to a stop. More importantly, believe in yourself and your ability. Do not doubt it, let it happen naturally."

She went quiet then, and smoothed her skirt. "When you are ready, begin. And don't think of consequence. Just the bubble, the hourglass and yourself."

[Izzy James]

Scribbling, then rifling, all while Izzy watched. Truthfully, he was hoping that she pulled out a secret training device, like a magic feather for time controllers or something. That hope didn't dissipate as she pulled out the hourglass and set it on the table. Izzy stared.

"Focus?" he repeated, blinking. Stress was making following the conversation/instruction, already a problem for Izzy, even more difficult than usual. He caught the bit about focusing on one object, which he thought he could probably do anyway, but missed her whole explanation on the how to do it. At least there was that encouraging smile, which Izzy returned in kind.

Happen naturally, don't think of consequence. And, yeah, that was about all Izzy caught. He opened his mouth, thinking about asking her to repeat the bits that he'd missed, but ended up closing it. The last thing he wanted was for her to think that he wasn't paying attention. Surely he had enough to figure this out, right?

So Izzy turned to the hourglass, focusing entirely on it. Believe in the ability; that was easy. The ability was always there, always doing something. It was that second part that left Izzy worried. But he could focus, and let it come naturally.

Uh... what was he supposed to do to it again? The confusion made Izzy's face crinkle, not that it wasn't already. But he more or less created the bubble of time around the hourglass; that much he could do at will. The problem was that he was speeding up the sands so they were pouring out at nearly ten times as fast as normal. Izzy was looking at Anya, trying to figure out if that was what he was supposed to be doing.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya nodded mutely as Izzy began his focusing, watching him with a keen eye as the time moved around the hourglass. She did frown when the sand sped up, and shook her head, placing her hands lightly on Izzy's shoulders.

"No, Izzy." She said simply. "Slow the time, don't speed it up." She gave a smaller smile this time, then looked at the boy closely. "It's not a case of actually needing to slow the hourglass, it's a case of keeping your powers in that tight bubble, not to escape and affect you." She explained. "If your power is focused on one thing, that keeps it from speeding up your hours, or slowing them."

She limped to the whiteboard and carefully began writing something out. "We'll provide you with regular training, but for now I'd like you to keep your powers on a focus point at all times. Keep an extra watch with you, or such, and keep the power on that." She explained, writing it all out in her tidy handwriting.

Anya paused then, looking over her shoulder. "Eventually, we'll get it so the bubble is in you, rather than an external object. That way you wont have your problems." She flashed a proper smile then, and tapped the marker on her lip in thought.

"If you want, we can also give a few sessions of power suppression. I can keep the power at bay for a few hours each day." She finished writing the instructions down on the whiteboard, and looked at Izzy expectantly.

"So." She said, moving to turn the hourglass back over. "Lets try this again, with the time slowing now, instead of speeding up."

[Izzy James]

Izzy was really, really trying to focus now. Perhaps it was the stress or something, but listening to Anya was proving incredibly hard. He think he got it though. It was about controlling the area his power affected. He thought he could pretty well do that anyway, though that didn't explain why it kept acting out when he wanted it to. It sounded like Anya had a plan for stopping that, which probably meant that Izzy wouldn't be completely time-displaced. Also likely meant that his power wouldn't do the crazy out of control thing unless he let it.

Not exactly the progress he was hoping for, but still progress, right?

Thank God for the whiteboard. Everything was spelled out quite clearly there, and Izzy nodded.

"I wear a lot of watches anyway," he admitted. "It helps, sometimes. The cell phone does too," he started to dig for that, before pausing. Teachers weren't exactly big on pulling out cell phones in class, and this felt a lot like a teaching session. Best to leave the phone in the pocket. Izzy tapped it though, reading the board over again.

"I think I can do the focus thing," he admitted. "Though, uh, if I use my power too long I get sick. You know, puking up and stuff. It's not pretty," he blinked, looking to Anya. She was already resetting the timer and seemed to have a good idea. Slow down time around the glass.

Again Izzy focused, again he drew the little bubble of altered time... and again he made it speed up. Groaning, Izzy wiped at his eyes with his hands. How exactly was he supposed to get it to slow down again? Envisioning it or something? How do you envision slower time?

"I don't get it," he finally said, lowering his arms. "Is there a trick or something? Did you say something and I missed it?" he was looking at the board now, desperately hoping the right answer was up there somewhere.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Well, that's a good start." Anya said encouragingly. It didn't seem right to be stern in this first session, the boy looked worn out and fed up with what was going on with him. "You're already making the first step into being a responsible meta human by acknowledging that your power affects you and those around you." She offered a little nod, then appreciated Izzy keeping his phone in his pocket.

"Don't worry." She said softly. "We're not going to do long sessions to start off with. Little and often is much more useful." She pulled her hair back out of her face and watched Izzy closely for any signs of fatigue. "I always think of power training like exercise." She added, grasping the desk with both hands. "You start off small, then build it up, else you end up feeling ill."

She went quiet once more when he tried with the timer once more. Anya's lips tweaked in a little smile of disappointment, though it was tempered with understanding. No one's first proper session was perfect.

"How about..." She said slowly, thinking. "Imagining the grains going down much slower. Can you do that? Or imagine a clock stopping?" She wrote those on the board as well, since the teen was clearly struggling.

"We'll give it another go, then we'll take a break." There was no point in repeatedly pushing Izzy at this time. She watched him curiously, then had a sudden, snapping thought that caused her to start. "One of the alums, November Adams, she had a similar power to you. I can see if she'd be willing to have a chat with you at the weekend if you would like that?"

Anya always thought the idea of chatting with a well trained peer was a good way to inspire and help those who were struggling - a pity she didn't know anyone who was a master phaser for Evan.

[Izzy James]

Nod. Yeah, Izzy knew his power affected other people around him. How couldn't he, with the various "fun" side effects his power kept having? At the rate Izzy was going, anyone who got close would end up hospitalized. You know, unless this whole thing worked.

Building up, yeah, that kind of felt like what they were doing. Izzy rubbed at his face, blowing out his lips again. What he needed was more than advice: he needed a magic feather. Something he could hold onto that would help him work his stupid voodoo powers. At this point, he was half tempted to just pick up a rock and pretend.

Izzy was already starting to focus again, trying to pretend that the grains were going slower, when Anya suggested something else. Izzy's attention was ripped from the timer and onto his trainer. Blinking, he looked up at her and considered. He knew there were at least some people who had his ability; he'd heard the rumors and such. But he hadn't actually thought about, you know, talking to someone else who could do what he did.

"I thought everybody's powers were slightly different or something?" he said/asked. Per usual, Izzy was missing out on sections of the conversation. Okay, more like usual for the recent time period. He rubbed at his eyes again, which accidentally prodded his bruise. Gathering himself, he focused on the hourglass again, pushing aside anything else.

Time bubble. Altered time. Again the sands went faster, most likely because Izzy was starting to freak. But this time he focused more, thought harder. His stomach started to do that flopping thing it did whenever he focused too much, and he even felt a small lurch. But he thought of sands going backward, of time slowing.

And the sands in the glass actually reversed. Instead of just slowing time, Izzy reversed it. It only lasted for a few seconds, before Izzy lost all control, as well as his lunch.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya smiled brightly at Izzy's determination, and nodded. "All powers are a little different, but Miss Adams had similar side effects to what you describe." She said sympathetically, before fixing her eyes on Izzy's attempts. It was nice to see someone really making the effort, even if it wasn't exactly right.

But then she heard a little lurch, and was about to call it all off when the time stopped and then reversed. The woman was about to congratulate him with great enthusiasm when he suddenly managed to completely mess up time in the room, as well as throw up. Throwing a power block out, Anya hurried over.

"Alright Izzy, that's enough." She said gently, moving the boy over to a chair and grabbing a bottle of water from the lower drawer of her desk. "It's alright." Handing the bottle over, she offered a soft smile. "We'll stop for now, but you did a great job." Until he threw up, anyway. She nodded over to him, before gesturing for him to stay sitting.

"I'll just grab some cleaning products to clean this up, I'll be right back." Walking off, she headed to the janitor's office and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and a set of paper towels. She believed this was good practice for when she was a mother, after all. Returning, she crouched down and set to work cleaning the mess up.

Anya glanced up eventually and popped the paper towels in a bin bag. "I do apologise, Izzy, I pushed you a little too far." She admitted, sealing the bag and setting the sick-tainted items off in the corner for collection after the session. "But you did do a good job. Are you feeling any better?" She flashed a concerned look over at him, then sat back at the desk. She felt sorry for him - time control, like Telepathy, was a potent and intimidating power, and it was hard to train.

"Do you want to lie down for a little while? You're most welcome to."

[Izzy James]

Little different, sure, but Izzy wasn’t wholly convinced. Still, he was nodding and accepting. Any advice, even from someone who only had a vague idea of what was going on, would be better than what he had. Not that Izzy had a whole lot of time to dwell on the matter, since he’d already started his time control.

Which had gone spectacularly out of control, naturally. Well, not as bad as it often did for Izzy. The vomiting and nausea were more signs of strain than signs of him losing his ability. So, strangely enough, Izzy was seeing this as something of a success. Enough so that he was smiling when Anya handed him the bottle of water, mumbling a thank you. Unscrew lid, take a swig, swallow hard, and pretend that your stomach still wasn’t attempting to do flips that would make most acrobats pleased.
He did mutter some arguments, insisting that this hardly qualified as “good” anything. He also wanted to help clean up, and moved to do so. Not that he expected that Anya would actually do anything, besides gently nudging him aside. Still, despite the world spinning and his stomach lurching, Izzy was determined to try. In the ned, he still wound up sitting down and staring at the items, the shame making him wince.

“Not really,” he said, looking up at Anya. “I mean, the pushing thing. That really wasn’t pushing me. I’m just,” he shrugged, “Tired. It’s the whole thing that happened with Adrianna. Then this,” he waved at the black eye. “It’s just made me edgy. I can definitely do this though. I want to.”
Because if he didn’t master his ability, he couldn’t successfully use it to help people, and what was the point of having powers like this if you weren’t using it to help other people? He took another swig of the water, sloshing it around in his mouth while he focused on Anya. With the power suppression, following the conversation proved incredibly easy. Weirder still, Izzy knew exactly what time it was, and he had the strangest urge to report that.

“I’m doing alright though. It’s not like it was,” he waved the hand with the bottle, “then. So, yeah. Probably just one vomit. I’m going to sit here for a while though.”

He looked at Anya again, squinting slightly. “Do you have an accent or is my brain just misfiring again? Err, sorry,” he lowered his head, “I guess that’s not exactly power training conversation, huh?”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya nodded mutely as Izzy spoke, aware of how powers were adversely affected by emotional, and normal stress. Once the vomit was clean off the wooden floor, she gave her hands a quick scrub with a small bottle of sanitizer, then rested her hands on the desk.

"You have to believe in yourself, Izzy." She said simply, patting his hand lightly and scribbling down a few notes in his file for later use. Izzy's struggle was one she thought highly of - unlike Mr. Rixon, who simply hurled his power around like a hooligan, he valued control. It looked as though she may well have another student worth his salt, a pleasant surprise indeed. "And don't be upset about your side effects, when I was a young student I used to have terrible migraines to the point where I used to pass out or scream."

Thoughtfully, Anya rested her cheek in her hand and blew air through pursed lips. "Have you thought about talking to someone about your stresses? Not a teacher, per say. Maybe a friend? Someone who will help you feel a little calmer?" She suggested, free hand rolling the pen around on the table. "Or, perhaps, if you feel it too private to talk about at times, try an online journal or a paper one. That way you can also keep track of any changes in your power." She smiled then, and took a breath.

Izzy's words caused the trainer to nod, and her teeth drew into her lip. "By the time we get your practices more regular and longer, we'll try and get the side effects managed. I can reduce the symptoms with regular controlled sessions, and though you'll always have a niggle of nausea, I think we can make it so you don't lose your lunch." She said encouragingly.

"I'm Russian." She said rather abruptly, looking somewhat surprised. "Outside St. Petersburg." Her voice took a far away quality, but it quickly returned to business. "I would like to schedule regular training sessions with you during the week, preferably in the evenings, so your stomach is less full. If we can get an hour a day in, that would be lovely, then I'll arrange a group training session for you at the weekend." She got out her diary and began figuring out a pattern.

Regular short bursts of training was exactly was Izzy needed, she thought. Powers were like a muscle - use them over and over again and they grow in strength and control. Izzy's "muscle" was currently weak - but give it a few months and she was sure that the teen could at least have his power in some form of permanent control.

[Izzy James]

Believe in himself? Izzy nodded, though part of him was sincerely concerned. Wasn't it himself that kept screwing everything up? Though from the sounds of it, things were getting better, or they would, or something. Izzy rubbed at his head, trying not to think of the churning going on in his stomach.

Thankfully there was a conversation to focus on, even if it was over such a dodgy subject as Izzy's stress level. He found himself nodding again, though also wincing slightly inside. "I've thought about it. I'm just; I don't want to be a burden to anyone else or anything..." he sighed. There were people who were supposed to help talk about stuff like this, and Izzy did have a few friends, or at least people he was friendly with. Oddly enough, Rhett came to his mind first. That guy had laid enough on Izzy to at least be something of a willing ear.

Something to think about anyway.

More sessions; more nodding from Izzy. He wanted them; he already felt like this had helped. He finally looked up to refocus as she hit his personal question. He smiled slightly at that, hoping that he hadn't twinged a nerve or anything. Some people were touchy about their pasts.

"Thank you," he said, knowing it was sudden. "For the session. I mean, I know it's your job and all, but it really helped, and, uh, sorry if my question was personal or something."

He smiled and nodded. A nervous shift, and he looked to the door. "Um, should I be going or something? I'm not exactly sure how this works..."

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Then perhaps the journal is a good idea?" Anya said softly, with a small smile. "Everyone has a problem or two, to say something about it is merely a human trait, so do not feel as though you are burdening others." She offered a small, soothing smile, then looked back down at the diary on her desk.

She shook her head. "It wasn't personal, it was just unexpected." She shrugged, then smiled brighter still. "My job is to help you, so to hear it's working, that's a compliment." She paused then, resting her pen on the diary. "Now, before you leave, I want to set you a little homework." She eyed Izzy to make sure he was paying attention, then cleared her throat.

"I'd like you to spend five minutes a day focusing on keeping your time static. Perhaps stand in front of a clock and imagine your power deep within you, unable to get out. We'll see how that works at the end of the week." The trainer finally closed up everything, and leant back in her chair.

"You can go now, Izzy, I'll see you tomorrow at 5."

[eeck. Short and crapola]

[Izzy James]

Izzy nodded. He wasn't sure that the whole journal thing was an assignment, though it sounded assignment-esque. He did know that he wanted to get control, and that listening to Anya seemed like the best result. So he'd have to hope that his roommates didn't think a journal was girly or something.

At least the questions weren't taken the wrong way. Though Izzy still found himself smiling wanly, nodding along. The smile slid at the mention of "homework. " Izzy focused more than ever, though since the power demonstration that hadn't been quite as much of an issue. Focus his power, keep it static for at least five minutes. Izzy nearly winced at the prospect, but nodded anyway. Whatever it took. He had to get this power under control.

"Tomorrow at five," agreed Izzy. He rose, programming the appointment into his phone. Tomorrow at five. Yes, he couldn't miss this. "Um," he looked up at Anya, "did you want me to go?"

Well, Izzy supposed that they really couldn't do much right now, not with his current condition. He slid his phone back into his pocket and took a tentative step back, still facing the professor. Assuming he got the permission he was looking for, Izzy would be off and on his way, likely to go lay down and rest while listening to some good music.