xp_daytripper: (seeds of tradition)
[personal profile] xp_daytripper posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Amanda is seeking some quiet time in the music room when Alison comes in. Things start off tense, but as Alison once said, there's always talking.



The music room wasn't Amanda's usual habitat, except perhaps when she was looking for Manuel, but she wanted some time to think, about the events of Friday, the shitstorm on the journals, about Manuel's disclosure about getting his powers back. The music room tended to be fairly quiet on Sunday mornings, especially this early. She was sitting at the piano, picking out chords idly (the musical knowledge Manuel had left in her head post-Columbia was still there, albeit slightly rusty) and trying to sort out the mess in her head when Alison came by.

Her spine practically cracked as she straightened a bit at seeing Amanda in the room, the tension causing a series of small pops to snap their way up her back, drawing a small wince from her. And this particular moment had been music practice, which she'd missed two days in a row now and couldn't afford to miss again - not with the months off from before Christmas, on top of it all. And now Amanda had noticed her, which meant no retreat to her room to practice there, really. Gnr. Setting the still lingering irritation at the assumptions that had been made the previous day, Alison nodded at her in greeting. "Morning."

"Mornin'," Amanda said, unable to miss the sudden tension in the room and kicking herself for not realising. Alison and McCoy were friends. Alison was the music teacher. Of course they'd have run into each other. And Alison was possibly the only other adult, apart from Pete, that she felt she could talk to at the moment, with Nate and Moira away. Well, scratch that one from the list. "~I didn't mean to interrupt your practice, sister,~" she said in Askani, as she usually did when she was apologising to Alison for whatever.

"Nethesya." The single, short word had a world of meaning in Askani that nothing in English short of a long rambling speech would encompass. In this particular context, it meant something along the lines of neutral ground, safe haven no matter what other issues might otherwise be present and cause conflict. And no judging. "I can practice in my room later," she added in English, selecting a spot on the ground to sit down on, as opposed to a chair. Without further ceremony, she reached up and set a hand on the back of her neck, the gesture not at all awkward despite the angle - and pressed one thumb deep into the muscle between neck and shoulder, to try and ease some of the tension. The massage therapy courses had some directly applicable benefits for herself, as well. "Tell me that yesterday's outburst had to do with more than just Hank's post, please." She sighed at the words, wincing at the flare of pain when she dug in too deep, and relaxed the pressure a bit.

Amanda sighed, and nodded, turning slightly away from the piano so she was straddling the bench, elbows resting on her legs and hands loosely clasped in front of her. "I lost me rag a bit, readin' that post," she admitted. "But it wasn't the only reason." She paused, looking for the words, and finding they were all in hiding in the back of her head somewhere. "Frustrated, I s'pose. Embarrassed too. I don't like bein' singled out like that, 'specially in that way. I know McCoy meant well, but what he said... it made me look weak. In front of the others. Bad enough the special classes an' all, but now they're gunna be too scared t' ask me anythin' 'bout me magic, in case my head explodes or somethin'."

"Hank made have handled the way he expressed his concern for a patient badly," she put emphasis on the word patient, keeping her voice calm, "but he did have a very valid point." And yet again, it had been taken as though one had suggested hanging someone by their toes from the clotheslines, at large. Sometimes, Alison reflected, trying to actually do their jobs was like handling a mine. For all that they were asked to be teacher and adults and staff, when they were it was an unforgivable crime. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

"You know when the medlab staff approached you to put restrictions on your healing?" Might as well come out clean on that one, Alison decided. "I asked them to do that. And it took them all of two seconds to agree, and then some. Why? Because I kept seeing you tired and withdrawn, and the amount of nosebleeds you were having were just ridiculous... you were always too exhausted to do anything, to the point where it was affecting not just your studies, but you quality of life and your health. And I remember only too well how much you felt that the only way to validate your right to be here had to be somehow paid off, before. Knowing that, knowing the hook that's there... of course Hank wanted to make it clear that your magic wasn't to be abused. It's like any patient with a power that can have negative effects - you put limits on those who might not realize what they are, or what the possible harm could be by way of accumulation. If anyone thought you were weak from reading Hank's post, they'd have to be on crack," she added wryly. "Your reflex is to give too much, but there's nothing weak there."

Amanda bit back her initial reply, not wanting to start the argument again. And really, this wasn't about the spell for Jay, or even about what Hank had said. "I understood 'bout the healin'," she admitted. "An' I have felt better. 'S just..." Taking a breath, she went on. "I haven't been doin' magic at all, really, since I got back from New Orleans. Just healin' Andrea. An'... I miss it. I can't do it for meself any more, an' I can't ask people if they want it - I know McCoy said I can, but I can't. 'S not how it's done."

The understanding was good and hopefully that was all that mattered - though the revival of 'oh, the adults suck' that would probably still linger Alison wished they could do without. Tilting her head to the side, however, she just shrugged a bit "Okay. So into training here as well, and not just with Strange. Work up a schedule, test each spell and then gauge the effect on yourself. Work with the medlab to track your physical progress with each type and range of spell. Categorize them, both by nature and by resources needed, either physical or in terms of components or anything else that helps to fuel them. Keep record of what does what and how things affect you depending on what you do, or when why and how." Alison released the tension she had still been keeping up and switched sides, digging in with her thumb into the middle of the muscle until it nearly spasmed in protest, before relaxing slightly under the pressure. "That's what we do for all the students who want to go into active powers training here. Some we have to drag into it because of obvious power issues, but otherwise we don't force it onto anyone. If you want that, then we'll set it up." She offered Amanda a tired look, and tried to add a smile onto it. "We're not all mind readers. We can't guess at everything, you know."

"That's the problem, I can't... I'm not s'posed t' be wastin' it, even t' do stuff like that. Tante said..." Amanda caught herself, but went on regardless. "Tante said it wasn't just a tool, just a bag of tricks. 'S connected, t' everythin' an' everyone, an' everythin' I do effects everythin' else. So if I use power just for meself, even if it's t' learn what t' do... well, 's me takin' from people, ain't it? Becomin' someone like the person who brought me up." She looked down at her hands. "'S not the same as the rest, 'cept maybe Angie's precog. No matter how much I want t' be like everyone else, that ain't gunna happen."

A raised eyebrow greeted that statement. "Get a second opinion on that?" There was a touch of wryness to the comment, though it was gone as Alison continued. "Look, even if I just did a spot of research online and read a few of the books left lying around now and then in the school, there was still a sense that, well, that sort of mentality differed depending on the type of magic you did, or just who the instructor was." Oh lord did the books go on about how the mentalities differed. "And either way, there's still possibilities. If nothing else, I'm pretty darn sure Strange could hook you up with a more practical way to do some things, that would be helpful to others in nature, if that's the restriction you have to work with."

Alison unfolded her arm, giving up on removing the tension from her shoulders, and leaned back on the floor, propping herself up on her elbows. "I can ambush him on that, if you like. Course, if you did a write-up of all you can do and how each thing affects you as you know it so far, it'd make it easier for me to talk to him while sounding like I have some idea of what I'm saying." She blinked at Amanda, a touch innocently. If there was a problem, there was a way around it. It was just about finding it. "And Amanda? None of us are like the other. We've all got powers, some more out there than others. Or some don't and they're still not the same."

"'S part of the problem, that whole different mentalities thing," Amanda griped. "Every teacher I've had - not that there's been a lot, mind - has taught me somethin' different. An' you know somethin'?" A slightly conspiratorial edge entered her voice. "Most of it feels wrong. Like tryin' t' pick up water with a pitchfork, or route electricity through a piece of string. I don't know why. Maybe it's 'cause Rack brought me power on too early, an' I'm not ready for it." She considered the problem. "I could write that stuff up, yeah. Might take a while - 's quite the list. But I don't know if Strange can help - I have talked t' him 'bout the whole ethics thing, y'know. Sometimes it's all we bloody well do." Her hand came up and she began gnawing on her thumbnail, unconsciously.

"I used to do that," Alison remarked idly, eyeing the fingernail gnawing. "Ask him about other teaching methods. Ask Romany too. If there's need, sic me on 'em and I'll ask until they tell me to go away, too. And you can always outright ask them if Rack bringing you to power so early might be skewing things for you. They might just not be telling you because to them it's obvious. People are blind that way sometimes," she added, with a touch of irony to her voice. She sobered up quickly, though. "What's easy and what feels right because it's easy isn't always for the best though. To take a really tacky analogy in a way, I bet you the Dark Side felt really good to the Jedi who feel for it." She shrugged. "Sometimes you just have to work at it nonstop until it starts feeling right because you worked for it that much. It's how my stuff works, anyway. Doesn't feel right forever, until I get it properly that first time. But that's light physics for you. I keep blowing up... equipment until I get it right." She remembered blowing up the crystal in Cain's chest only too clearly." She shrugged it off. "But make the list. Hey, if nothing else, that's a good basic exercise for you whichever way you look at it."

"Rom an' Strange 're doin' the best they can," Amanda said, although there was a certain lack of conviction in her tone. "Rom's distracted tho', what with what happened to her an' Pete's Dad. An' Strange tries, but his style an' mine clash quite a bit. Some of the stuff he does, I just can't manage at all. An' he can't do the healin'. He's got theories 'bout why 's so hard for me, but nothin' solid yet. I get the feelin' from both of 'em 's part of the price. I don't have t' raise power like they do, but it does more damage on the way through 'cause me system ain't ready for it." She rolled her eyes slightly. "Too mutant t' be a witch, an' too witch t' be a mutant."

"And you're what, all of eighteen now? You have time, little grasshopper." Alison's lips quirked a bit - she remembered wanting it all now well enough. You learned patience the hard way. "As frustrating as it is to hear that. And whichever way you look at it, a power is a power is a power. It only makes you as different as you let it make you. And it's not you. Even without any powers at all, there's still be an Amanda to reckon with, don't you think?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I've always had 'em, as long as I can remember, 'cept for a few bits an' pieces from before Rack took me," Amanda admitted. "The magic's always been a part of me - if it was gone... I really don't know what'd be left. A smart-arse street brat with a better memory than most an' a boyfriend way too above her?"

"It's a part of you Amanda. But it's not you. You've still got the smarts and the cleverness that are all you." Alison sighed a bit, shaking her head. "It's... easy to assume that out powers make us who we are. But it's not the whole of us." Unless one let it define oneself, or identified with the power so much that it would a person like Magneto crow in victory. "Lorna's comment was dead on, with that one. But she and I tend to agree on the issue of powers and self-determination."

Amanda couldn't help shrugging a little. She wasn't clever, just had a well-trained memory, and the magical training had done that. "P'raps," she said. "I ain't sayin' me powers make me better - the opposite, really. If it weren't for the magic an' me mutation, I wouldn't have the habit, for one. Wouldn't have been taken by Rack an' royally fucked with, for another. Would've just been another gypsy kid runnin' 'round with the Szardos caravan."

There was a moment of silence, and then Alison cocked her head to the side. "But you would have been just like everyone else." There was no mocking or teasing at the contradiction in possible wants that had been expressed - after all, that was what life was about and Alison knew about those well enough herself.

Amanda nodded. "I would have, yeah." She held Alison's eyes steadily. "You think I wouldn't want that?"

"I don't know what you really want. You're the one who knows that, or who can figure it out with every day that goes by." Alison pondered that, with all the attention it deserved. "I know that some days I hated being a mutant so badly I contemplated scary ways to try and get rid of it." She then smiled, remembering other things. "And now, sometimes I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world." She shrugged, then, perfectly at ease with what she had just said. "Things change. And people change too."

"I hate this sometimes," Amanda admitted. "I hate the nosebleeds an' the headaches an' always havin' t' think about every last consequence an' motivation. I hate the fact most people think magic is all Harry Bleedin' Potter an' David Copperfield. I hate the fact I never got a choice in all this, when that's one of the central parts of most magic disciplines. An' I hate that no-one really understands any of it." She gave Alison a small, wry smile. "But then again, I s'pose you've heard that last one enough from us teenaged brats, yeah?"

A faint smile answered that, and Alison stretched her legs a bit, eyeing the tip of her toes - and wriggled them a bit, watching how the pattern of the socks moved. "You know... we were all teenaged brats at one point or another too," she pointed out, with an amused grin. "And just because Rack stole some choices from you at the start doesn't mean you can't start making your own now. Listening to Strange and Romany, taking the time to learn. That's a choice you make, Amanda."

Amanda nodded. "'M tryin'," she said, voice perhaps a tad tired. "'M doin' what Rom an' Strange ask, I try an' stick t' the rules... that's got t' count for somethin', don't it?"

Alison pushed herself up at that, and took the few steps needed to sit down on the piano bench. "It does." She lifted one arm, an offer for a hug - if Amanda wanted one. There was more that could be said about the rules and why people reacted the way they did, but it seemed to Alison that for now, it was enough. Look at that. Even I've learned not to push too much. The thought was a bit self-deprecating, though none of that showed. Instead she just offered Amanda a small, crooked grin.

Amanda hesitated just a moment, before turning and leaning into the hug, arm moving around Alison's waist and leaning her head on the other woman's shoulder. She didn't say anything - she didn't need to. The gesture said it all.

Profile

xp_logs: (Default)
X-Project Logs

December 2025

S M T W T F S
  123456
789101112 13
14 151617181920
2122 2324252627
28293031   

Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 24th, 2026 12:05 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios