Quentin & Topaz, Thursday afternoon

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Topaz continues to avoid the new reality and ends up meeting a disgruntled Quentin (as if there's another kind). They don't not get along.


Places to hide were becoming slim, but if there was one place Topaz knew would always be safe, it was the unused classrooms. No one had a reason to use them anymore, they had to be empty. Right?

She was almost instantly proven wrong when she came within range and was almost instantly bowled over by a screaming mix of anger, frustration, and self-hatred. Oh wasn't that just bloody wonderful. She was tempted to just walk away but it didn't feel like anyone even vaguely familiar and in the end natural curiosity (god damn natural curiosity) won out.

So she found the room the emotions were radiating out of and peeked in.

She found a pink-haired Korean boy about her age, wearing skinny jeans, Doc Martens, an over-sized t-shirt, and a hoodie vest, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the otherwise empty room. His eyes were closed, seemingly in concentration, but the look on his face made it clear that whatever he was thinking about, it was vexing him.

He felt more then heard that appearance of another person, and grunted frustratedly as he opened his eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked, the ire in his voice tempered by exhaustion.

"Probably not," Topaz replied dryly, hooking her bag more securely over her shoulder. "I've had quite a few therapists try, no one seems to be gettin' anywhere though. You're new, right?" She was so behind - she knew there were a couple new students and she'd heard rumors that Alison had found her way there, but she'd stopped paying attention a while ago.

Quentin snorted but his lips quirked upwards, belying some mild amusement. "I am." He pulled himself to his feet and glanced at the lightswitches, flipping them on remotely so he could actually see the other person. "Quentin. You?"

Topaz raised an eyebrow as the light switches flipped on, bathing the room in light. Telekinetic, then. "Topaz." Hey, he wasn't one to be judging names. "Not new."

"Pre–M-Day, then?" He'd come to learn that there were two groups of people here. Those who'd survived M-Day and come out the other side terrified of what they'd seen, and those so traumatized by it that they'd come here in some poorly thought-out attempt to unionize, not knowing that half of their compatriots were still reeling and not searching for community support. So if Quentin had to guess, Topaz was the former.

"Yeah," Topaz said shortly. "You're a psi." She didn't want to stay on the topic of M-Day for too long. She didn't think too much about it - didn't really care to. And she certainly didn't want to discuss it with this kid. There was something about him that was just...off. It niggled in the back of her head.

"What gave it away?" She set off something in his head as well. Even though his own telepathy had yet to reach its growth spurt, he could at least tell that she had something going on in her head, too. Some connection to the Astral Plane, vastly different than his own, and not something he could place.

Topaz's jaw clenched a bit, and her mind shut down. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, she didn't want him sensing anything in her head. "Well the lights turnin' on by themselves was a pretty indication. Unless the room is just haunted. Always possible, this place is old."

It was maybe a good thing that Quentin could barely achieve any telepathic contact with anyone, so when Topaz closed herself off, it just felt like he'd slipped back instead of being violently thrown out on his ass. As it was, whatever talent he'd managed to conjure this afternoon was quickly fading so he wouldn't be able to maintain anything for much longer.

Still, rude.

"That's just part of it," he explained. "Chuckles is teaching me telepathy, too."

It was also rude to go poking around in people's head without permission so hopefully Chuckles was working on that with him as well. "Really." Great, another Maddie. And Dr. Grey. And Haller. "Sounds like fun."

"Sure why not. How 'bout you? There's something . . ." He raised a hand to his head and wiggled his fingers in some vague gesture of psionics. "About you. What's your deal?"

Well he'd shared his tricks. It was only fair. "Empath." She shifted her bag again. "A little bit of telepathy but nothing strong enough to care about."

"Everywhere I turn, there's another psi. Like cockroaches. Or something less gross, whatever."

"Just means you're in good company. Relatively speaking."

Quentin actually chuckled at that comment. That was some fine shade, he had to admit. He decided she was all right after all. "Least I finally found a place to belong," he responded, still smirking.

"Yeah, this place is good for that." Generally. "Anyways, I should let you get back to your meditating. Bit of a tip, though - the more frustrated you get, the harder it is to concentrate."