xp_logs | Lessons

It was another mundane day in the rather mundane psionics class, teaching most of the inept she'd ever encountered. And while she brought the classes attention back to the blackboard, the words Shielding etched onto it in chalk. She continued lecturing with her back to the class. She needed shielding, probably much better than that she had, to not hear the almost audible boredom coming from parts of the class. The problem with beginners and especially teenagers, she thought, was that they could be bored if you set their hair on fire if you did it as a teaching exercise.

"Alright, I'd like to take another practice run at your mental blocks," she stated. A loud groan from the class told her their willingness for such an exercise. Kwannon held onto her control, making sure not to make her anger apparent. Though she was sure that these ungrateful cretins were wearing down her last nerve. "If you get this right, we won't have to do it again, is that understood?"

"Like we haven't heard that one before." M's comment wasn't even sub-vocal, let alone telepathic. She was sitting slouched at her desk, inspecting her hair for split ends.

Kwannon turned back to the class, raising an eyebrow at the insufferable child. "You of all people should focus on keeping your thoughts to yourself, Ms. St. Croix. As I said, we'll continue to do this, until you get it right and today, I'm going to need a volunteer."

M raised a mirroring eyebrow, not moving in any other way, deliberately nonchalant and provocative. "Me, of all people?" she asked. "Any particular reason for that? Aside from the fact I'm evidently being volunteered." She paused. "Ms Braddock."

She didn't respond to the comment, or the jib. Kwannon only smiled, inviting Monet up front the class. She watched as the girl seat herself in a chair placed in the center of the classroom. "Now, class. I'm going to send an image to Ms. St. Croix, as we've obviously practice time and time again, she'll try and block the image." She turned to Monet, "are you ready?"

Monet rolled her eyes, then narrowed them slightly in concentration, but not enough to wrinkle her skin. "Ready when you are, Ms Braddock," she said, her hands still in her lap.

She hid the smile as she focused on the psychic shell Monet built around herself. Feeling the tensing of the girl at the intrusion, Kwannon quickly went to testing the shield for its' weak spots and within moments, she broke through with minimal force. Kwannon sighed and pulled back. "Again," she said resignedly.

Monet's forefinger started tapping against her leg in frustration, and she closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she nodded. "Go for it." To Kwannon's internal gaze, there was very little difference in the shielding, and she broke through again, easily and comfortably.

Each time, Kwannon brought herself within Monet's psychic walls and demolished through them. "Not good enough. Again." After the fifth time, Kwannon mused that Monet needed more incentive. She gave the girl a rather intriguing image to block against, something that would motivate men to move mountains.

By this stage Monet's foot was tapping in time with her fingers, and she had her jaw tensed, none of which appeared to have helped when she gasped. "Ewww!" she said, opening her eyes to glare at her teacher. "That's disgusting! The Professor does not have the legs for fishnets." She shook her head. "I think it's someone else's turn now." She stood up to return to her normal place.

She let out a soft chuckle at Monet's indignation. "Good try, my dear. We'll need to work on this some more." She turned to the class, amused, as M returned to her seat. "Now, who'd like to be next?" She said as she tapped the chair to entice more volunteers.

***
"Now, that's all today. Please review your syllabus for tomorrow's assignment." She was wiping away the chalkboard, as the students, shuffled out of the classroom. She felt M's sullen retreat. "Ms. St. Croix, can I have a moment?"

With the grace of someone who knew they had no choice, Monet froze, and turned around. "Yeah, whatever," she said, dropping her notebook down on the desk beside her.

Kwannon waited before all the students left the classroom before continuing. "It's uncanny. How much you remind me of myself at your age." She paused for a moment. "And it's as if I've come face to face with an aspect of myself I'd rather not remember. Cocky, yet unpracticed. Powerful, yet lacking finesse."

Monet, displaying many of those traits, shrugged her unconcern over anyone else's opinion of her. "So? Am I failing, or something?"

"Indeed, you are."

This was enough to get her attention. "What?" Monet snapped. "What for? Because I can't get the stupid shielding thing?"

Kwannon slammed her fist into the desk, "Because you don't try, or see to think doing so would be beneath you. I will not waste my efforts on someone so talented, yet utterly useless to me. I've had more breakthroughs with a person lacking any psionic skills, than I have with you. You, my dear, have the telepathic control of a newt. And even then, I believe the newt would break through your flimsy shields."

Monet had heard some of these things before, obviously, but this time something, perhaps it was the personal insults, perhaps it was coming from someone like Betsy Braddock, made an impact. Her eyes were wide, and her hands fluttered together in front of her. "I have been trying!" she said. "You can't... I mean, I'm not that bad."

With a firm nod, she repeated. "Yes, you are. And unless you prove yourself worthy of my time, you will not pass this course." Kwannon returned to her blackboard, preparing for the next class, leaving the choice in Monet's hands.

"Hey, no!" Monet had not left the room. "Not a chance, Ms Braddock. I had to take this course, and I'm not going to let you being all, all stupid stop me from passing this." Monet marched up to the front and perched firmly on the desk. "Show me how you make your fabulous shields yourself," she demanded. "Now."

A satisfied smile flashed across Betsy's features. "No." You will have to catch me after classes today. My regular office hours are listed on your syllabus." She quirked her head in amusement. "Good day, Ms. St. Croix."

Monet glared and took a deep breath. "Fine. Should I ask if you have any appointments already, or am I the only person who wants one-on-one time with you," she snapped. "This evening," she added with barely a pause. "Ms Braddock."

"I am a busy woman," she said offhandedly. "But I'll manage. I must warn you though. There will be some discomfort."

Monet scooped up her books on her way out the door. "I will pass. It's that simple," she said.

She eyed the girl as the next class entered for lessons. "Of course, you will." she said. She felt the girl's indecision for only a moment, before bringing her attention back to the class. "Yes, yes. We have much work to do class." She paused. "I'm going to need a volunteer."