Those Who Make Trouble (Sean)

[Vincent Meian]

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.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

It was a rare occasion that Sean turned down the opportunity to have coffee; those occasions tended to be when he needed to sleep or was otherwise in need of tea or meditation. Now was not one of those times. Instead, it was morning during a weekday, the most important of times for him to ingest caffeine in order to help him focus and solidify what he had already done this morning, and to help him gather strength and focus for the rest of the day. As such, that was what had brought the telepath to the staff lounge in the first place.

Upon stepping into the lounge, he was immediately confronted by the aroma of coffee in the pot, and by the sight of Vincent slouched over a pile of folders – easily recognizable as student files.

This was the primary reason that Sean had never believed himself capable of being a powers trainer. He was capable of tending to the mental and emotional wellbeing of students and faculty alike, but helping students to gain control of their powers, eclectic as they could be – doing what Robert Hopkins had done for him – was not a skill set that he believed he had or had particular interest in developing for himself. He tended to the mind, and others could tend to the body and the abilities.

However, the name on one of the files - the one most visible on the table – caught the telepath’s attention, and he offered Vincent a sympathetic expression. They had discussed Sam before, and apparently Yvette had gotten around to reassigning him, again, and the duty had fallen into Vincent’s lap.

“I’ll take you up on the coffee,” he said, before crossing to examine the bamboo container that was, unfortunately, empty. “And I’ll take a rain check on the rest.”

Settling into a chair for a moment to take the pressure off his feet, he remarked, “I see that the new assignments are in, and that you drew Sam Rixon.”

[Vincent Meian]

With a polite nod, the younger of the two men took Sean's mug carefully and walked with it over to the coffee pot, pouring the both of them a cup of the warm and bitter liquid. Shifting the cups to one hand, he also retrieved the sugar dish and the container of milk from the refrigerator for his colleague; while Vincent himself preferred his coffee black, he knew that Sean appreciated have the extra sugars in his food and drink where he could get them. "Next time, I will be sure to bring you a batch before they have all been consumed," he replied, closing the lid before leaving the counter.

As he returned to the couch, the trainer placed the sugar bowl down in a clear space, then made a much neater pile of the paperwork to allow more room on the small table before handing Sean his mug of coffee and depositing the milk nearby the sugar. He didn't know his friend's preferred concoction by heart, so it was better to let him do it himself. He nodded at the observation and took the boy's file from the top of the stack, resting the thick grouping of paperwork on his knee when he finally sat once more.

"Yes; among several others, Mr. Rixon is among my newest charges for the term." Flipping open the paperwork, Vincent took a sip of his coffee and placed the ceramic container on the table carefully. "From what I have read, he has been transferred numerous times and is still no closer to mastery of his abilities. However, there is little mention as of why. Would you know the cause?"

Though the trainer did not know that Sam had been visiting Sean for any length of time, he did recall that the psychiatrist had offered him help should the pyromancer ever come under his purview. Considering that the Japanese man had been debating where to start at all, this seemed like a good place to begin.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Thank you,” Sean said with gratitude, for both the present coffee as well as for the promise of treats in the future. He then took the mug of coffee, as well as the milk and sugar, to prepare his drink. He poured in enough milk to turn the coffee an enticing shade of caramel, and then he stirred in a spoonful of sugar. A quick taste, and a bit more sugar, and then it was up to standards.

The telepath took another sip of his coffee, managing not to react to the euphemistic descriptions of Sam Rixon’s power training troubles. If only Vincent knew the half of it. “I would know the cause,” he confirmed with a small nod.

Sean then set his coffee cup down on the table and leaned back in his chair, making himself a bit more comfortable. “I can give you the long story, if you’d like. But the quick facts are that Sam has struggled with substance abuse in the past. While I’m not adverse to enjoying a drink or two (this was an understatement, which he knew), and I’m also not unfamiliar with the effects of marijuana, neither is helpful when trying to train. Particularly with something like pyrokinesis.”

There were other factors of course, including Sam’s social circle and some of his other poor decisions. However, his misuse of alcohol and marijuana were the most obvious and well-known contributing factors to his lack of progress.

[Vincent Meian]

"It is my pleasure." Truthfully, it was; the trainer loved to cook in all manner of forms and mediums, and sharing his creations was something that gave him a small boost of pride since he'd started cooking for others specifically as a teen. Besides, Vincent rather diligently did not lie or exaggerate - if he said it made him happy to do so, he meant it whole-heartedly.

He also hadn't realized that his allusions to Sam's troubles were being overly vague - he certainly thought he was being direct, but the transition of Japanese directness and American euphemisms was still somewhat unequal. Fortunately, Sean has not remarked on his unintentional vagueness and had simply replied, sparing the younger man from the minor indignity of explaining himself further.

Looking up at the psychiatrist from the paperwork, Vincent nodded in understanding - there were references to Sam's substance abuse in the session notes, mostly notations that he had come to class "stoned" or "hungover". The only reason why these made any sort of sense to the Japanese man was because he'd questioned a student about it when they used the terminology in his presence. So, the trainer was able to follow along well enough to understand and agree with the assessment. "No - pyrokinesis is something that requires much greater control than being under the influence of a substance such as alcohol can provide," he replied. "From your tense, am I to understand that he no longer imbibes these?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean sipped his coffee, keeping the mug in one hand rather than setting it down. He didn’t intend to nurse the cup for long, and undoubtedly he would have to have a second before this conversation had finished.

At the question, he lifted his other hand – the one not holding the mug – and made a so-so gesture, wobbling his hand a bit. “He tries,” the telepath offered, which was the best assessment that could be made of Sam Rixon’s habits. To the boy’s credit, he tried his best to put forth the effort and break free from addition. However, Sam had also been initially resistant to admitting that he had an addiction, as opposed to engaging in casual use.

“He still slips, which is partially due to the familiarity of substance use as a coping skill and partially due to his social circle. But he is better than he used to be.” That was indisputable; Sam Rixon was better than he had been, before attempting to stop using mind-altering substance.

The teenage pyrokinetic still had a great deal of ground to regain, given the years he had wasted in training and outside of it.

“He also doesn’t have the best work ethic, which is related. As is his lack of impulse control.” These were other reasons that Sean was glad that he was not the boy’s trainer, and why he had a swell of sympathy for Vincent due to his new assignments.

[Vincent Meian]

"He is making progress, then..." Vincent mumbled, musing to himself more than confirming the assessment. It happened to the best of people, frankly - the sliding scale of addiction made it difficult for people to completely quit, especially when there was ample opportunity for regression. Still, at least progress was being made.

The trainer returned his gaze to Sean after making a few notes in his notebook on the subject, showing that he had his attention again. "I can see something to that effect here," he agreed. "Apparently, Mr. Rixon is...." he fought with the word for a moment, "unmotivated. Perhaps if there was a way to challenge him, or to make the training entertaining... do you think that would produce better results?"

Impulsive behavior was something that could be trained very subtly, but only if Sam had the willpower to actually train in the first place. Making training fun was not something Vincent was accustomed to doing, but if he could understand what the pyro found amusing it would make things go much smoother.

He could deal with the consequences of such things later.

Picking up the file to glance through it again brought another name or two into light, though the man hardly noticed. He knew Sean, and knew from his reading that almost all of these students had met with the psychiatrist on more than one occasion. If he saw them, there was no real issue - he'd likely written some of them in any case.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean nodded in confirmation that Sam was making progress; the progress was merely slow and less desirable than with many of the other students. However, it was undeniable that he was better than when he had first arrived at Hammel those years ago. Considering how many interactions the telepath had had with the young pyrokinetic, he was in a unique and certain position to make that determination. “He is. Slowly.”

He sipped from his coffee mug, slowly draining the hot liquid so that the caffeine could perk him up. “Unmotivated” was an understatement, but since everyone at Hammel was familiar with Sam Rixon’s reputation – and those without direct knowledge learned quickly enough – subtle words could be used without diluting the message too much. Even if the telepath didn’t care for euphemisms in all circumstances.

“There are ways to catch his attention,” he confirmed. Sam was hardly unteachable, even if he didn’t put in the same effort as some of the other students, and he had difficulties that many did not have. The fact that he had put forth the effort to become sober and clean in order to work with Cobalt was evidence of that. That he had volunteered to work for Cobalt, and had passed an interview, was also evidence of that. “You could make a game of it. Or you could tie it into one of the school subjections he liked.”

However, Sean’s attention on that topic shifted when he caught sight of another of the student names. “Yvette assigned Jesse Adams to you.” It wasn’t a question.

[Vincent Meian]

"A game..." Vincent pondered the idea a bit as he sipped at his coffee. Playing games with fire was not often wise, but if something of the like could be done safely, it could help retain Sam's focus for longer than a few moments. Maybe he could gather a few supplies the next time he was out - with the holidays over, there was time for him to wander the woods surrounding Pilot Ridge. Also, where there were woods, there was all sorts of interesting things to burn.

He had been about to ask what sort of subjects Sam enjoyed when Sean asked him a question. Glancing down to be sure of the name on the file, the trainer nodded. "Yes," he answered, his tone somewhat grave. Despite the fact that he understood his capabilities well, the Japanese man very rarely had trained dream or memory manipulators - the ones he had, the training required quite a bit of trust to enact. From what he'd read (and tried to discern through a number of very biased accounts), Jesse was neither trusting nor trustworthy; the upcoming sessions after his assessment would likely be difficult for the both of them.

Part of him wanted to ask on the boy as well - it was well within his rights to ask about the boy's previous training experience, especially since he had (theoretically) gained quite a bit of mastery over his abilities during the time when his schooling had a large gap. However, something in the idea halted him. There was no reason for him to ask that question if it had been omitted; it had been left out for a reason. Anything worrisome would certainly have been mentioned.

Instead, he asked, "His abilities are something that I have rarely taught control for. Do you have any suggestions on exercises or techniques, given my own lack of psychic ability?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean nodded. “Something as simple as giving him points for being successful that he can trade in at the end of the month for something tangible would do wonders with him.” Sam’s enthusiasm was easy to use, although it rarely made up for the boy’s other, more problematic qualities.

The telepath’s expression was similarly sober, as his mind flooded with memories of past interactions with Jesse. The blond boy had been compliant during their readmission interview, and Jesse had agreed to continue with their mandatory sessions. However, Sean was intensely aware of Jesse’s ability to go awry if he so wished, with little recourse from most of the faculty. That was the effect of learning from Gabriel Underwood.

“This isn’t a training technique, but I would suggest meeting with me after his sessions so that I can give you a once-over.” Would that such a precaution was unnecessary, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

The telepath sipped his coffee again, before setting the mug down on the table in front of him. “I’m afraid I won’t be that helpful with proper training exercises. My trainer was a psychic, and that’s my entire context for learning.” Robert had been powerful enough to shield against anything Sean did, correctly or incorrectly, and he had been able to undo anything that happened. The psychiatrist didn’t have personal experience with non-psychic trainers, and all of the ideas that immediately came to mind required some degree of psychic ability.

“Perhaps incorporating a dream journal.”

[Vincent Meian]

Something about offering a reward for good behavior seemed like bribery to the younger man, but he supposed the idea had its merits. While offering something tangible grated at him a little, there would likely be nothing wrong with a promise of an excursion out or a small trinket. It wasn't as if Vincent disliked doing things this younger generation found entertaining, after all - he simply was uninterested in most pastimes that involved high amounts of electricity. Hmm... Sam was a pyrokinetic; maybe something like building a bonfire or lighting off fireworks would do the trick.

Granted, that may have to wait for summer. Maybe he could figure out the boy's favorite foods instead. Snacks had motivated him in school to complete training in a timely manner (though in a different way; if he dragged the session out, he didn't eat lunch).

Nodding in agreement with the advice, the trainer answered, "I had been concerned with such a risk. I thank you for the support." He'd had a similar deal with another trainer at Eisai, though the student with these abilities Vincent taught then was a great deal less... unstable. If training to show Jesse that fixing memories was as easy as tampering with them went smoothly enough, there would perhaps be a little less need for such precautions. Not that he wouldn't stop taking them, of course.

He had somewhat expected the apologetic response to his question for aid. Sean was (from what he had discovered) much too powerful a psychic to have learned from anyone but another esper - asking him to think without his powers was like asking a fish to swim without water. "That is understandable," the younger man answered with a slight smile. "I will simply need to use my own judgement in course."

Oh? The idea of a dream journal caught him for a moment, and he thought on the idea. While he did not doubt that Jesse possessed more than enough ability to alter his dreams easily, he wondered how exactly such a journal would help. Coming from someone who had similar abilities to his student, however, Vincent could not fault the logic. "I will dedicate a notebook towards this immediately, then. Do you wish me to share anything I find unusual?"

'Unusual' tended to mean tampering - 'troubling' not nearly so much. The trainer's dreams were troubled enough without psychics poking about in his subconscious.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“You’re quite welcome.” Sean wished that such an offer was unnecessary. Given that it was, he considered it his responsibility to Vincent as a friend, as a coworker, as a person with greater knowledge and experience when it came to Jesse, and as a psychic with a sense of conscience to make that offer, readily and without hesitation.

That same sense of conscience prompted him, upon hearing the other man’s training thoughts, to offer another warning. “He knows how to fix what he causes.” Jesse lacked the subtle, delicate touch that Sean had spent years cultivating for himself, and they didn’t have the same scope, but Jesse still knew the basics of repair. They had shared conversations on that topic before the blond boy had bolted from his office, running from Hammel to join up with Gabriel Underwood. Lack of basic knowledge or control wasn’t what made Jesse problematic.

As someone who had once lacked basic control, Sean didn’t judge other meta-humans, particularly not other psychics, for that. Informed choices were what concerned him.

Years later, the telepath still remembered Horus lying in his hospital bed, as clearly as when he had first gone to visit him there.

Sean’s mentor had devoted most of his life to training young meta-humans, to help them gain the confidence, judgment, and skill to interact outside of Hammel. Jesse’s mentor had taken delight in causing other people to commit suicide. They could only hope that Jesse took after Gabriel less than Sean took after Robert.

The psychiatrist shook his head, because he apparently hadn’t fully communicated the thought properly. “The dream journal wouldn’t be for your dreams, but for Jesse’s. Having him account for his mental time not only encourages responsibility but it also boosts self-awareness.” Sean had started his own journals before attending Hammel, but he likely would have stopped had Robert not encouraged him to continue. Telepath and dream manipulation were hardly the same, but the powers had enough similarities that he thought this exercise might have cross-application. “If nothing else, it could be a tool to measure progress absent third-person mental accounting.”

As someone else used to peculiar dreams, Sean didn’t pry or judge. Not unless someone came to him to discuss the content of a dream that they found uncomfortable.

[Vincent Meian]

The subtle rebuke snapped the trainer's attention back up, and he sat straighter on the couch, somewhat abashed. He had momentarily neglected to remember just how loud a person's thoughts could be to a telepath of Sean's caliber. "Please forgive me," he answered. "I did not mean to imply such. I have no knowledge of the boy's motives, and I cannot until I meet with him myself. I will continue to meet with you after our sessions until you decide otherwise."

Really, it was the smart thing to do. Without meeting him, there was really no way that Vincent could know his personality or what he was capable of. While others might think of simply leaning on what others had to say, the Japanese man was always rather adamant about learning things the hard way. Including talking to people.

"Hm?" The clarification caught him off-guard, but once Sean explained it made a bit more sense. "Ah, I understand. Will his dreams reflect his progress so clearly?" Having not trained a dream manipulator (and only one memory manipulator) in his career, this was somewhat unknown territory for the soldier. Any extra information was always helpful, and Sean was a reservoir of knowledge and experience in the psychic world.

Picking up the file to make a note of this (and confirm his own mental notation), he looked up at the older man. "Are there any hazards that I should be aware of?" he asked. "Side-effects that could cause myself or Mr. Adams harm?" He didn't mean if the boy misused them - that was something that Sean could very easily deal with should the time come. He meant side-effects of simply using his powers every few days, signs of mental fatigue and the like. If Jesse's powers were used more frequently than he was accustomed to, would there be serious risk to his mental or physical health?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I know.” Sean coupled that with a slight gesture of his head, intended to convey that he took no offense, and he didn’t think that Vincent should have more knowledge, given that he had yet to meet the boy. “But I can’t over-emphasize the need for caution. Jesse has far greater control than his academic history would indicate, and while that would typically be cause for celebration, I just want you to be aware and careful.”

The psychiatrist shrugged slightly, because he couldn’t answer that question as an expert. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it could hurt. Dreams are often tied to emotional state, and then his powers make that more acute. It will help him focus, if nothing else.” That was what Sean had found, not merely from interacting with other psychics, but over his decades as a psychiatrist treating patients.

“He can injure himself in his sleep.” The telepath needn’t look at Jesse’s file or his own notes on the blond boy to know that. He remembered that side effect quite clearly from their previous discussions and interactions. “His powers are very much reciprocal in nature, so the harm he can do to others poses a similar risk to his own person.” In addition to being noteworthy for the insight they provided into how Jesse’s powers functioned, the nature of his side effects functioned as a measuring stick for the boy’s actions.”

As for other side effects, Sean explained, “He has the standard headaches. He also has some memory damage, much of which is pre-existing but which may have worsened.”

[Vincent Meian]

Lack of trust in a student was something Vincent was unaccustomed to seeing in Dr. Neville. Normally, the man seemed to have heart in everyone, seeing things the way they were while believing the best in people. But here, involving this boy, Sean seemed more than a little cautious, even compounded with the nature of the remarks in Jesse's file. The trainer searched the older man's face for a moment, finding the stern concern, but did not voice his observation nor directly note it mentally. He was sure Sean had his reasons, and they were not his to know. Not yet, anyway. "I will be sure to take care."

Making another notation, he looked up again. He refrained from mentioning the rather karmic justice of the boy's side effects, but it was a rather pronounced idea at the forefront of his mind. "Are all of these injuries mental in nature, or are some of them physical?" he asked, clarifying. "How much memory damage should he expect, as well?"

He didn't want Jesse to become completely mind-wiped if they trained too often. It wasn't fair to the child, even in the name of controlling such a powerful ability set.