How to Not Set Fire to a Classroom [Closed]

[Anya Vasiliev]

Trip to Russia over, Anya had set out a small tray of empty bottles and other items in the center of the room. It was always her way of doing things - focus a power on an object to keep control and damage to a minimum. Rolling her sleeves up, she looked at the training roster and nearly decided to quit on the spot and run as far away as humanly possible. Samuel Rixon. Oh god. Rubbing her temples, she read on. Evan Brackett. At least he worked hard and didn't set fire to things.

It took her a few moments to find a fire extinguisher and set it under her desk.

Rubbing her hands together, she turned to the chalkboard and began to write in her neat, precision handwriting.

Focus.

Attempt to use your powers on the bottles in the center of the room. Do not allow your abilities to reach further than the object you have chosen.

She knew that would be an interesting task for Mr. Rixon, but she had some vague faith in the boy. If all went badly, she could block his powers and extinguish any fires in the room, at least.

Pushing down her pencil skirt, she opened the windows to let cool air circulate round the room, then waited for her two students to arrive, hands resting on her hips. Dear god please let Sammy be in an attentive mood.

Fat chance.

[Evan Brackett]

Training had not always been the bane of Evan's school life. He use to think it was fun, because it meant that he was going to learn how to use his new ability. It didn't take long for his feelings to change. While he had never been good at controlling his power, Evan expected to get better at it. That never seemed to happen, and, eventually, a sense of hopelessness settled in that lead him to thinking that training would never help him. It was just a waste of his time. He began to hate going to class, and when he found out that, for this particular session, he would be training along side Samuel Rixon, his disdain only increased.

So Evan was not cheery when he arrived, barely on time, at Anya's training room. He didn't hold back his tired sigh as he shuffled in and dropped his book bag on a chair, or even try to look like he didn't mind being there. There was only so much he could do with his power, and he had given up on trying to get better a long time ago.

Ignoring the instructions on the board, he smiled kindly at Anya. Just because he hated being there, didn't mean he was going to be rude to his trainer. Besides, if Sam wasn't there yet, maybe he'd forget to show up altogether, and then Evan wouldn't have to deal with the pyro. "Hello, Ms. Vasiliev," he greeted warmly, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. "How was your trip?" Was he purposely trying to put off the inevitable with small talk? Yes. Yes he was.

[Samuel Rixon]

Words like ‘focus’ and ‘attentive’ don’t really exist in Samuel Rixon’s vocabulary.

He was, however, thrilled that his next training session was with the beautiful, exotic, sexy as hell Miss Vas... Va... the Russian chick.

Hey, it wasn’t her name he paid attention to.

He was actually excited to head to training. Even if she could be tough, it was worth it because she was drop-fucking-dead-gorgeous. He’d even made an attempt to look nice today. ... Of course, this was nice by Sam standards. It involved clean clothes he was pretty sure were his and not Ember’s, showering that morning, and, get ready for it.

Not. Smoking.

Of course, being high and being stupid were not dependant on one another. Even without an impairment, Samuel wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed. So it was only to be expected when he came tearing down the hall (late) and bounded into the room with all the enthusiasm of a six year old on a sugar high.

Of course, the excitement of seeing ‘The Russian Chick’ was only doubled when he saw his training partner for the duration of the class. A squeal even a dog would flinch at followed. “EVAAAAN!” The pyro grinned and launched himself at the phaser, snuggling him tight for a moment before releasing and looking at Anya.

“Miss Va –“ Sam, don’t even start. “...sleeve.” He bounced slightly, proud of himself for getting it right. (Yeah, right.) “What’re we gonna do today?” Because no, he couldn’t be bothered to read the board.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya visibly brightened when Evan came into the room - he was one of her favourite students, despite being a little defeatist, at least he tried hard. Filing a few papers away in her drawer, she moved to the front of the desk and sat on it. Crossing her legs daintily, she smiled warmly over at the phaser and laughed.

"Morning Evan." She said, trying to ignore the second set of steps sounding down the corridor that spelt doom. "I had a lovely trip thank you. Bought back some souvenirs. How about you?" Her voice was bright and cheerful, though it died the second Samuel appeared through the door. She tried not to make it TOO obvious that her enthusiasm had just died, and instead managed a small tut and a point to her watch.

"Late Samuel." Anya said with a little huff, getting off her perch from the desk and tapping the board with her pencil. "Today we're going to attempt to keep things focused and concise, so please take an item from the center of the room." Massaging her temples, she managed to gain her confidence back and walked to the center of the room. She glanced back to the desk, remembering the fire extinguisher and taking a small sigh of relief.

"Evan, have you started your phasing diary yet?" The Russian asked as she took a large tea tray for him to practice on. "I'm sure we'll crack it soon." She added, giving the teen a pat on the shoulder before striding back into the center of the room.

"Alright you two, concentrate. Take deep breaths and push any emotion to the side. Emotion in power is what causes accidents." She took a sideways glance at Sammy. "Keep any thoughts you have that are bothering you to the back of your mind, then picture your power. Keep it inside for a few moments, then visualize the power coming forward, keep it around for a few moments, then gradually bring it back." Putting her hands on her hips, she took another glance at the fire extinguisher.

"Slowly now, both of you. We don't want an accident."

She could hope, at least.

[Evan Brackett]

Evan's smile broadened. "That's good." He ignored Sam as he ran into the room, desperate to keep the trainer from starting class. "I'm okay. Just been having some problems with certain--" He's voice cut out when the other boy shouted his name, and Evan stiffened in response to the hug, his hands curling into fists. Oh God. "People," he finished, loosening up long enough to push the pyro away.

"Hi, Sam." The greeting was flat. Unlike Anya, the phaser was making no effort to hide his discontent at sharing the day with Sammy.

And of course he would ask about what they were going to do, successfully ruining the phaser's scheme to avoid training.

Evan barely listened to Ms. Vasiliev's instructions as she began the session, more focused on indiscreetly scuttling a few more feet away from the other boy in order to put some distance between them. Though, he was relieved to hear that they would be working with objects today, because he definitely didn't want to deal directly with Sam. He supposed that wasn't likely to happen anyway. What kind of group training could you do with a phaser and a pyro?

His attention snapped forward when Anya approached him. "Uh..." He gave the trainer an uneasy smile as he took the tray. "Yeah. Well, sort of. I got a journal to write in the other day, but I haven't actually written anything in it yet." It was kind of pitiful, considering how much time he had had to get the little book started, but he had been picky in his selection. If he was going to be carrying it around and writing in it for the rest of his Hammel career, he wanted to get something that he liked. Plus, it had to be affordable, and with the few times he had to replace his pants that year, he didn't have a lot of extra money to spend.

Obediently, he used one hand to hold the tray out in front of him so that the broad side was perpendicular to the ground, and placed his other hand flat on its surface. That was as far as he would get, however. She lost him at 'visualize'. How was he supposed to concentrate when Sammy was in the same room as him? Every time he tried to ignore the pyro, something bad happened. He had to keep an eye on him.

After a quick glance over at Sam, Evan slung his gaze back to Anya with an exaggerated 'you're kidding me, right?' expression plastered on his face. She was hoping for some kind of miracle.

[Samuel Rixon]

Late? What was this ‘late’ Anya spoke of? It was a word that had honestly lost all meaning to the pyro, considering he was ‘late’ to all of his classes. Most of his teachers had just stopped bothering pointing it out. He just knew that he was headed to detention afterwards. Luckily, his attention was quickly diverted from the admonishment to Evan. Because he loved Evan. ... Okay, not really, but having him around meant that he could try and ask him (again) if he was gay. For Levi, of course. He couldn’t care less. All the harassment the poor phaser suffered at the hands of the pyro was all for Levi.

As Evan pushed him away, Sam let go and bounced in place, eager to get started. Truth be told, he liked his training classes, because they meant that he could legitimately use his power. And he planned to. After his last session with Jackeroe, he figured he’d gotten a little bit better. Enough that he didn’t really need this baby steps bull. He could show Anya what he could really do. Then she’d be impressed and would have to kiss him. ... Or something. Really, his head is a scary place.

With the instructions given, Sam raced to the middle of the room and pulled out his ‘victim.’ A glass bottle. Fire plus glass was fun, right? Hey, if all else failed, he’d ask if he could make a Molotov Cocktail, then go running down the hall to find Vincent. If he wasn’t readily amused by making the glass melt. Perching (respectfully) on a desk a good distance from Evan and Anya, he only perked up when he heard ‘diary.’ “Awww Evan. You got a diiiiaaaaaarry?” It was probably a good time to shut up, and he thankfully had the functioning brain cells to go back to his task at hand. Melt. The. Bottle.

Making a small flame in the palm of his hand, Sam pressed it close to the bottle, grinning in a childish delight when the bottle started caving in. See? This wasn’t so hard.

And then he got an idea. While he was doing oh so well with his own training, it didn’t look like Evan was doing anything with his object. He needed help, in Sam’s (un)professional opinion. Without thinking about the possible repercussions, he just slid off his desk. This was one thing he’d nearly perfected in all his time ‘practicing’ with Vincent. How to lob a fireball across a room. Or hallway. Or balcony. You get the picture.

“Evan! You’re not doing it right! Watch this!” And there went the little ball of fire. Aimed right at Evan’s oh so manly tea tray. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this, right?

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya monitored the two boys cautiously for a moment as they listened to her words. Or not listened, in Sammy's case. "I'm sorry to hear that Evan." The woman said silkily, brushing off her skirt. "If we do well today, I'll share some of the Russian candy I picked up while I was away." She added as a slight bribe to try and get Sammy to... not destroy the training room beyond all repair.

Noticing Evan's reluctance, she shuffled over to him, peering over his shoulder. "It's alright Evan. Just relax, everything will be fine." She said gently, guiding Evan's hand with her own. "Just imagine that the tray isn't that solid anyway." She managed a small chuckle. "Like the Matrix."

It was a pleasant surprise that Sammy was behaving himself and keeping his powers in check. "That's excellent Samuel." Anya added cheerfully, sitting up on the desk and watching the bottle melt under the flame. "And perhaps you should keep a journal too, that way we can figure out when your powers are at their most uncontrollable and pencil in some extra training." Leaning back, she watched her two students with a small amount of pride.

That pride died quickly when she heard Sammy's shout.

Gasping in dismay as the fireball flew across the classroom, she instinctively cut off the pyro's powers and rushed forward with the fire extinguisher, checking Evan over for any burns or damage. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she then turned to Sammy, looking every inch the scary Russian lady.

"Mr. Rixon!" She said in sharp staccato, pulling the boy up and holding him by his shoulders so he could look at her. Her face contorted with anger, then neutrality, tinged with disappointment.

"Powers are not playthings. They are not toys, they do damage to those who use them and to those outside of their influence. Do you know what could have happened to Evan if he had received that fireball to the face?" Burns were a sensitive subject with Anya after Morgan's injuries, and she felt her ire rising under her skin. "More importantly, do you know how important it is to be responsible and in control of your powers? Metas who fail at this are locked away, often kept out of society for their own protection."

She paused, taking a breath and looking over at Evan. "I know it's difficult as teenagers to accept such a great responsibility." Anya finished, releasing Sammy, and his power block. "But please try and understand that for meta humans to gain rights equal to our non-meta counterparts, to stop prejudice, we have to be careful and considerate."

The woman settled down in her chair and gently rubbed her temples. "I'd like to set you both a challenge for the next month." She rested back in her chair. "Research, and prepare a small presentation on irresponsible power usage. Use examples of errant meta humans. I think it's the only way you'll both learn how important control of your powers are." She clapped her hands together, took a deep breath and managed a wary smile.

"Now, try again. I want to see a melted bottle and a hand sticking through that tray."

[Evan Brackett]

Evan was already slightly ashamed of his procrastination on starting his phasing diary, and it didn't help that Sam was teasing him about having one. His eyes narrowed as the pyro slipped his comment in, as if the phaser hadn't suffered enough from their past encounters. "It's not a diary," he muttered defensively, "It's a journal. They're different." Not that anyone was listening to his protest anyway. Sam seemed thoroughly distracted by his own exercise by that point.

He nodded at Anya's instruction, glancing again at Sam before deciding that it was safe to stop worrying about the other boy pulling anything. It didn't seem like he would purposely do something cruel in front of a teacher. The phaser closed his eyes and took a deep breath, doing his best to imagine the tray was something other than solid...Like jello. Jello was tangible, but your hand would go right through it if you applied any pressure. Funny how he only thought of that because of the stupid jello wrestling incident, but at least it was applicable. With a bit of reluctance, Evan imagined that the tray was made of jello, and pushed his hand against it.

The tips of his fingers were just beginning to slip through the tray when he heard Sam call out. Evan's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and his eyes opened just in time to see a ball of fire flying at him. He gasped and quickly pulled his hand back, dropping the tray as flames dissipated across its surface. "What was that for?!" he yelled over the clattering, completely oblivious to any good intentions that the pyro may or may not have had. As far as he was concerned, Sam had just attacked him. With fire.

He clenched his jaw and his hands balled into fists, but Anya came to examine him before he could do much else. It was a good thing, he was about to punch the older boy. "I'm fine," he muttered, uncurling his fingers to show her his hands. The fire hadn't come close to harming him, but that didn't change the fact that Sam had aimed a fireball at him. Van seethed quietly as the trainer went on to lecture them.

When Anya turned to look at him, he averted her gaze and picked the tea tray up off the floor. He checked it over for damages, but there wasn't so much as a dent on its surface.

His grip tightened as the Russian told them about her challenge. "But that's not fair!" he gasped. "I didn't do anything wrong. It was all Sam's fault!" It wasn't really that much of a hassle--he could probably do the assignment in a couple hours or less--but he didn't want to be punished because Sam was lobbing fireballs across the classroom. At least Evan knew better than to argue any further, and fell silent after his initial outburst.

With a frustrated sigh, he held the tray out in front of him again. If it was hard for him to concentrate before, it was near impossible now. Now that he knew Sam wasn't above throwing fire at him, he didn't dare close his eyes at all, and he could barely keep himself from glancing at his peer every few seconds. It didn't take long for him to give in to his nerves and lower the tray. "I can't do this," he whined, his eyes pleading with Anya. Forget the candy, he just wanted her to let them go for the day.

[Samuel Rixon]

“Naaaaw, diaries and journals are the same thing! Diaries are just girly.” Which was just more so called “proof” that Evan was indeed playing for the other team. Point: Sam. But he quickly lost interest in the idea of Evan keeping a diary when candy was mentioned. The pyro perked up, listening attentively. Funny how his hearing was rather selective, normally, but when candy was involved, he was all ears. “Me too, Miss Va-sleeve?” Because a pyrokinetic with already dubious control on a sugar high was a good idea.

Sam’s issue with his power was the exact opposite of Evan’s. For him, it wasn’t trouble with getting it to work. It was getting it to not work when he was emotional. Or just out of control. It wasn’t all that great when he was all fired up over some moronic prank a la Vincent, and something caught fire. Well, it was great until he was given detention for it. So he was trying.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that he thought Anya was gorgeous. Nothing at all.

Not that he was fooling anyone.

He’d thought he’d done a good thing when he’d chucked the fireball at Evan. He’d been helping! So when the odd sensation of his body cooling and that little tickle that said he could make a flame if he wanted to was cut off, he flailed unhappily. He didn’t like when his powers were cut off, because he was so used to feeling warm and tingly that this was just weird. “I was HELPING!” That was shot back at Evan, just before he realized how close Anya was. At first, he looked vaguely sorry, but the more she talked, the more he tuned out. ‘Great power comes great responsibility, blah blah blah.’ He’d heard it all before. Many, many times.

As soon as he was released, Sam skittered back, out of Anya’s reach, rubbing his hands as he regained the warm feelings. He didn’t even apologize. He just stared in dismay as Anya outlined their ‘challenge.’ “But!” There was really no argument he could construct. “... But that sucks!” Clever, Sam.

He was pouty now, as he picked up his abandoned bottle and pressed his palm to it again, this time more in control of himself. If he expected to get out of this class without any more trouble, he’d have to be good. At least for the next five minutes.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"I know, Evan." Anya said sadly, helping him regain a little focus by standing directly in front of him to protect him from any further errant fireballs. "But whilst you aren't irresponsibly poking your head through women's changing room doors or zipping through walls, you still have very little control over what you have, and that's still a little irresponsible, even if just to yourself." She clucked her tongue, then turned back to Sammy. "Suck it may, but it's something you both need to learn."

Taking a long deep breath, Anya watched Sammy with a keen eye, making sure he was concentrating on the bottle. "That's good, Samuel." She said simply, turning over to Evan and crouching down to hold the tray. "It's alright Evan. Just concentrate on me, I shall not be letting any more errant fireballs come your way." She gave him a reassuring smile, then nodded. "Get this done for me and we can call it quits for today." She added, keeping the tray steady, and her ears pinned for any flamey movements from the boy behind him.

She thought she might have an idea that'd get both boys irked and willing to cooperate, and glanced over to Sammy in a would-be casual way. "Irresponsible metas turn out like Jesse Adams. You aren't like Jesse, are you Samuel?" Anya laughed to herself, then moved back to jot down the simple parts of their assignment on the board. "After you've accomplished one melted bottle and a hand through a tray, jot this down and have it into me at the start of next month. You will be graded on this." She tapped her finger to her lip, then shook her head and moved to the center of the room once more.

"Right boys, another 10 minutes to go and you're free. But I'm expecting results, or we'll just have to go into lunch." She set the small pieces of delicious toffee and chocolate candy on the table, then managed a brighter smile. "It's a really special type of candy, my favourite when I was younger." She added, tucking her hair behind her ear and yawning.

"Just think how powerful you'll both be with proper training." She added as extra encouragement.

[Evan Brackett]

Ignore him. It's not worth getting worked up over. He's just trying to get a reaction. Let it go, Evan told himself as he glared into the center of the tray. It was almost too bad his power wasn't something like shooting laser beams from his eyes, because he certainly would have burned a hole through it by now. The point being he didn't appreciate Sam's logic.

The flailing made Evan nervous, but he could infer that the trainer had caught off the pyro's power from the lack of fire. He snorted at Sam's exclamation, not believing for a second that the boy was trying to help. It honestly just annoyed Van even more, because he thought his peer was trying to cover up the fact that he had just done something wrong.

When Anya explained that he was being just as irresponsible as Sam by not learning to control his power, he phaser adverted his gaze. "Yes, ma'am," he said submissively. He still blamed Sam for causing them to get the assignment, glowering once again at the other boy. Of the two of them, Evan didn't think that Sam had any right to complain. It only meant that things were worse than he thought, because obviously Sam didn't understand that throwing fire around was not okay.

He let the trainer take the tray from him, listening closely to her words. Anya's reassurances were barely comforting. It didn't help that he was still distracted by the idea of Sam attacking him, even with another person between them. But now that she was aware and Sam was being punished for his earlier actions, Evan could at least pretend to believe that everything was going to be alright.

He sighed and nodded once as Anya handed the tray back to him. If he was ever going to graduate, or learn to walk through walls, or even just learn to not fall through them, he was going to have to suck it up and concentrate. He knew that. Okay, so there was only 10 minutes left, and then he could get the hell away from Sam. He could live with that, and get his hand through the tray by then. Sam had thrown him off once, but that wasn't going to happen again. Ms. Vasiliev promised.

Evan held the tray up again and pressed his hand against it. Come on. I can do this. If not for the candy, then to get out of class on time, certainly. Once again, he imagined the tray was made of jello, pulling it towards himself as he pressed his hand against it's surface. It was hard to believe that his hand actually slipped through it, just like he needed it too. "Oh! Ms. Vasiliev, look! I got it to work." He waved at her with the phased hand, a grin plastered on his face.