Control me, I dare you:

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Makoto Inoue

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<h2>Date? Hell if I know.</h2>

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It’s unbelievable. Here I sit in a “power coaching” class when it’s likely that I’ll never be able to control this “negation” ability. It’s not as though I can study with other students, either. That would be moot, after all. I cancel everyone’s ability! <p>

Just being near them and they can’t conjure anything! Charmed people turn back to normal, fire breathers can’t even cough up a plume of smoke, telepaths can’t read minds, and immortal people become vulnerable whenever they are in my presence!<p>

I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this classroom, this school, this island. My place is with the normal folk. They didn’t notice my “eccentricities” before, so how the Hell would they now?!<p>

Maybe this is some higher power’s way of saying I don’t belong anywhere.<p>

You know what, Higher Power? <div align=center>Fuck you.</div>


</div></div></div><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=55"><div style="text-align: center; font: 10px/11px calibri; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; margin-top: 5px;;">© avey</div></a></center>

With an aggravated huff, the journal slapped closed whilst glowering eyes rolled to see the elder figure standing before. They ¬ – this boy and his elder – were in a naturally well-lit room with nobody else. None but the birds chirping just outside an opened an opened window.

How… annoying.

“This pointless,” the boy spat. “We’re just wasting each other’s time, twiddling our thumbs, and pretending that we’re making some of progress!” Tell me: why are even here?
 
Emy

Emy

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Sorry, it's a bit long. Don't feel obligated to copy my word count or anything. I always do this. Ahh...

Paschalis de Santis

Oh, terrific. There was yet another student yelling at him for whatever. Progress. Powers. Typical subjects in the realm of "I think I know better than people older than me just because the whole normal thing isn't really my shtick." Sitting neatly on top of a desk, Paschalis let the words just pass over his head -which was a short joke, he knew, but at least it was fitting in this instance- and stared out the window, hands folded in his lap. There was a fire extinguisher leaning against the side of the desk, placed right by his feet, and the man was fully prepared to make good use of it if things became violent.

He waited a little while for the boy to calm down. Absolutely no point in arguing with people when they were just getting ready to be vicious. It didn't work in the hospital and it really didn't work in real life either. Frankly, it was a good waste of breath and the exchanges were blandly predictable.

"Help! My XYZ needs an operation RIGHT NOW!"

"Yes, he/she/it and a dozen other people, thank you."

"This is SERIOUS!"

"And I have nothing to say to that, good day."

Only, the degree of violence at the end tended to vary quite a bit.

Actually, though, Paschalis didn't know whether he should be annoyed or content with trying to work with this particular student. On one hand, his powers weren't really being negated, probably because they were self sufficient and not sourced from him anymore. Also, at least he knew that this boy wouldn't end up spewing lava or something destructive like that in a fit of rage. On the other hand, though, Paschalis didn't want to deal with the whining either. It was just a huge pain and a major reason for why he wasn't teaching a real class like biology.

"I don't know why you're trying so hard to visibly see progress when your own power doesn't visually manifest itself," the man said, in a tone of utter neutrality. "Just because you can't see it happening doesn't mean that it's not happening. That's about the same as saying that you can't catch a cold, just because you can't see the virius."

"You're absolutely right, though. You're not seeing any progress because you've accomplished nothing so far." He frowned faintly as he heard a tone from his phone. Checking it for a moment, he saw that it was a text from Solaris. Something about sharkmen. Well, that wasn't his problem. Next time he saw the other man, he'd just say that he didn't catch it in time.

Turning his attention back to the student before him, Paschalis suggested in a drawl, "Maybe you need more incentive." God knew that was a hard element to acquire these days. "I could have a ten year-old trying to throw rainbows at you instead. She'll probably end up crying if her powers fizzle out and if you're the emotional type, that should be enough for you."

"If not, we'll just have to try something else, won't we?"

Or- Oh. Hm. He didn't really want to bring up his own powers or the methods he had used to more tightly control but maybe he would have to. He had only been working with this boy for maybe a week and it was so obvious that it really was becoming a waste. In either case, whether he went to the subject or not, it was clear that it was going to be a good deal of work.
 
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Makoto Inoue

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‘My power… is like a virus?’ A virus. A disease? His albinism, the slow degeneration of his body – it was all caused by this, this virus. So what was this: a power or a sickness?

Struck by revelation and realisation, lids fell to half-mast where bone-white lashes laced together. Nothing at that moment had been seen, but imagined. Nothing at that moment was pristine, but rather it was blurry – like some day dream. If this power affects his own physiology, then could the solution for it to manifest or be controlled lie within the sciences? As irrational and intuitive as most powers were, that would make little to no sense… the probability would be low.

Nevertheless, Makoto opened his journal once more and jotted down these thoughts and notes.

No incentive? A sly grin crept onto this one’s ashen face. Right. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable, Mister de Santis.” Once the small book had been closed, Makoto sat up straighter with shoulders lax and yet pulled back. “My power doesn’t work like that,” he began, “if someone throws a table at me with their telekinesis, the table won’t stop in mid-air and drop. It’ll continue to soar as its velocity and gravity permit it to. The power-user just won’t be able to control it.

“On a similar note, something like fire won’t be completely extinguished either because I don’t null oxygen, it just won’t reach me at that sort of distance since the user won’t be able to conjure fire or manipulate it in the area around me. So that little girl’s rainbows will still exist. She’s probably manipulating the light particles and moisture in the air. If the air is moist enough and the light is strong enough, then---” there was a thoughtful pause. One where the student ceased to verbally project theories and, instead, visualise the scenarios because of an important fact that he forgot until now:

The radius in which his ‘virus’ influences others’ powers had increased significantly over the past year. Likely due to stress. ‘So if that girl wanted to fling her petty rainbows at me, she’d have to be nearly three hundred feet away. Any closer – at that age and weak of prowess – and ‘magic’ wouldn’t work. At all.’

“That’s not true,”-there was a weary sigh-“It has changed. It’s gotten worse. I don’t know even know the full limitations any more, but my guess is that the little girl won’t work at all. She’d be too far away.

“So what else do you got, Mister Extinguisher? I’m curious.”
 
Emy

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Paschalis de Santis

I'm not sure that we're talking about exactly the same thing, he thought, seeing the grin on the boy’s face. But it seemed close enough that he didn’t think he needed to bother with explaining himself any further. And who knew? Maybe it was better to let him draw his own conclusions like this.

“Unfortunately, not every power works mostly within the confines of science,” Paschalis said, taking the nickname in stride. “It seems like for some of them, like, say, common reality warpers, the more you try to explain it with science, the less sense it makes and less effective it becomes if you actually attempt to apply natural laws to it. Those are really the minority, however.”

“Not every power seems to be fully controllable either. There’s a doctor at this school who can’t make skin to skin contact with anybody healthy because her powers would immediately cause them to be infected with a random disease. At the very least, however, her grasp of it is strong enough that she can avoid secondhand transmission.”

“But you’re probably a different case from Doctor Kalinina.” Well, assuming that his file was correct. Judging by some of what Wong had told him, the administration could be pretty incompetent in that regard but Inoue had been at the Academy for quite some time already. There had to be some accuracy to those observations. Maybe ten percent. Five. But in any case, Paschalis still had his own observations to work with, too.

“For one, Doctor Kalinina’s powers could be classified as a different entity onto itself. What I mean is that it essentially uses her body as a vessel and then operates on its own in predictable ways according to different situations. If she makes contact with somebody healthy, they get sick. If she makes contact with somebody sick, they become healthy. There seems to be a symbiotic relationship between the two of them, with neither really affecting the status of the other.”

“Do you see the differences yet?” Somehow, Paschalis was more interested in the mechanics of how Inoue’s power worked than in the boy himself. Maybe that was just the doctor in him; no time to worry about who exactly a patient was, just what was wrong with them and how it could be fixed.

“You’ll hear different explanations and terms from different people about magic; that’s just how things work when there’s no universal standard. So you might as well tell me in your own words exactly how you think your magic sustains itself because if you’re not confused now, you’re going to be if I go on trying to summarize everything like this.”
 
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Makoto Inoue

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There was a brief pause. One where eyes hardly roamed yet mind ran wild. Finally, Makoto concluded in a rather soft and almost-humble voice: “that’s… unsettling.” After shifting somewhat awkwardly (the apple in his throat jogging subtly), he pressed forth with an airy sigh: “there’s something romantic about numbers and logic… Is it possible for phenomena – such as powers – to become logic?”

In that moment, as elbows rested atop a mostly barren desk, his pallid countenance dipped into the welcoming folds of cupping palms. In here the light from the sun had been eclipsed. Like a dark room for photos to develop in. “No, no! None of it makes sense, it’s just there! My power is just ‘there.’ I don’t need to touch anyone; it just is.”

But there were similarities. When Makoto slowly picked his head up from his hands, a thought came to him: “but neither of us can turn it ‘off.’” However, Doctor Kalinina found a way to work with it… “Maybe it’s my life. I’ve been told that it’ll likely kill me one day if something else doesn’t. So maybe my life sustains my magic. When I die, maybe it’ll die, too?” However, after coming to this idea, one couldn’t read the other’s blasé expression. De Santis was inscrutable.
 
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Paschalis de Santis

"There's logic to everything if you think about it hard enough, even the nonsensical," Paschalis said, in a tone of dispassion that was contrary to how he really felt on the subject. "Just now, you were already trying to apply logic to how your powers worked. There's very, very few things in this world which simply are."

Considering Inoue's self made explanation, the man commented blandly, "That's a decent theory but it you're only seeing the result and catalyst without any of the in between. When you say that your life is sustaining your power, do you mean your physical body or those elements we tend to generalize as life energy?"

"If it's your body that being affected, you should probably go and consult a healer who has strong enough magic to overcome yours. I refuse to believe that there isn't somebody in the world who has some kind of resistance to it." Although, hm. Paschalis supposed that while he himself didn't qualify for that first part, he probably did for the second. "If it's the latter, you might want to consider finding a holy site and staying there a while. Try and find a spirit with enough divine energy to help you out there. You're probably not Christian but we do have one of the Ophanim on campus." The last part was said mostly to himself.

"Of course, I mean that you should do all of that while coming to these classes. There's no excuse for eliminating even a single means of study in case as specific as yours. The reason I brought up Doctor Kalinina is because of her inability to turn her power off, as you said. It's really the only similarity between the two of you but that's not the important part of the issue. It's the fact that what magic likes to do, is balance itself. Doctor Kalinina can't control her powers but she's also not a living battery for them and thus, in a way, doesn't have a real say in what they do. By feeding yourself into the energy behind your own powers, there's a good chance that your putting a part of your will into them as well. So the controls might already be there. You just need to figure out how to take charge of them."
 
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Makoto Inoue

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Disgusting. Disinteresting. Upon hearing spiritual solutions, this one turned his head and rolled his eyes, biting on the nail of his thumb in the meantime. As de Santis barraged with his teachings, this one simply stared off into the distance. Present and yet not.

However, it made sense.
When one couldn't turn to science, one turned to spirituality.
But…

“How should I know? I don’t know if it’s my life – in whatever sense that is – or something else. I never thought about it. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just me. It’s me. It and I are one-in-the-same.”–‘maybe that’s what he’s saying, I am it and it is me, therefore controlling it is possible’¬–“Besides, does it really matter? Once I graduate I’ll be living with the normal folk. No one will know the difference.”

Abruptly, a grinding sound squawked against the ground – the chair having moved backward. And from that he stood with fists buried deep into each pocket whilst feet sauntered into the sunlight. There he leant against the wall closest to an open window, looking out over the courtyard. From here one could see those in sports or gym racing around the track or sprinting across weathering fields, along with some other ants wandering about (dressed in red). “Mister Extinguisher, what’s the point of this power anyway? If I do figure out how to control it, what reason would I have to use it?”
 
Emy

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Paschalis de Santis

"You've been here for a while, haven't you?" Paschalis said. He looked up calmly at Inoue, thinking about how clueless some people could be. "If you recall, there was an incident some months back involving a student whose powers went out of hand. Some people were hurt, some students were killed. I'm not saying it's your responsibility to take of things like that but it would definitely be useful to have somebody with your powers on staff."

The man hummed softly to himself. "Most likely, though, you'll probably just graduate like the rest of the students and never set foot on campus again. Maybe you'll be like the ones who were only sent here for a few years and leave Manta Carlos entirely. Maybe you'll simply settle down here instead. I don't know; it doesn't matter to me which path you decide to choose. By that time, you'll be an adult and old enough to make your own mistakes. But that's then and this is now. I'm telling you, you're a threat to society right now." He said it so casually that it would have been difficult for anybody to perceive malice within it. It wasn't like any was meant, so that would have been an accurate observation.

"For one, what happens if you ever come into contact with somebody who actually needs to have their powers active to survive? Or, what if you walk by a healer as they're trying to work? If a person is flying overhead, they'll likely come crashing down to the ground, won't they? And I guess that teleportation might be tricky, too depending on how it operates. Sometimes it's just a matter of sticking a pipe into one part of reality and then putting the opposite end into another. Other times, it involves a person actively moving the real distance, albeit too quickly for there to be any indication of it."

Paschalis shrugged, glancing down at the fire extinguisher for a split second. "All that matters to me is that you figure out how to control your powers and avoid potentially fatal accidents. It's only polite to other people. Personally, I don't care if you never use them again after this. As far I know, Mr. Augustine never uses his and I've long since removed my own from my body. For me, things are simpler that way."
 
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Makoto Inoue

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At first it was just a quivering smile, one that was unsure – almost as if it were trying to ward off reality. But then a chorus of laughter cut through this student’s cracked mouth until the seam had been torn and his voice belted out.

“A threat you say?”-he regained composure and continued on with a droll smirk-“fine. I’ll learn how to control my power.” Eyes soon fell to the red object beside his teacher – it practically glinted in the sun, waiting to be used… much like a dormant power. But people like them? They weren’t meant to be fire-extinguishers. That may be what society wants, but it was wasteful. Monotonous. An ‘Oliver’ is exactly what society needed.

“So. How do we start?”


(OOC: sorry it's so short.)
 
Emy

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Paschalis de Santis

Oh, did I actually inspire somebody? Never mind that it was his job, sometimes it really did feel like nothing got through to some people. Paschalis thought dispassionately, I hope it's not the potential for violence that's got his attention. He really didn't want to be responsible for setting a psychopath out on the world but they would just have to see, wouldn't they?

"Tell me how you've been trying to control it up until now," the man said. "Chances are, you've either been taking the meditative method or the artisan method. The meditative method is exactly what it sounds like -you clear your mind for hours at a time and hope to God that either you get calm enough or in tuned enough with your powers to just ask them to work the way you want them to. With the artisan method, you simply try and manipulate the power into doing what you want, sometimes by tricking it, sometimes by just strong arming it. Either way, it's obviously not working for you."

"You'll probably want to stop thinking about your power as something separate from yourself, if that's what you've been doing all along. It's complicated, but here's what your specific power is like in relationship to yourself. First, think of yourself as a cell. The entire cell represents your being. Life energy is the fluid keeping you alive. Your physical body is the cell membrane. Everything else -magic, soul, emotions, thoughts- those are the nucleus, vacuoles, ribosomes, and so on."

In the breast pocket of his suit, he had been keeping an object which resembled a pen, complete with a plastic cover. It had always been easier to carry Ahimsa like this and safer, too, Paschalis thought. Ran's wooden spool was alongside it. Taking both objects out, he set Ran beside himself on the desk before popping the cover off of the scalpel.

"Ever tried to negate magic tied to objects instead of people?" he asked as he began to fiddle with Ahimsa in his left hand. "If you take the thread and wrap it around your finger, it'll start to burn. Wrap it around an inanimate object and it'll cut right through. Go and see if you can stop it. Just try not to break anything too important. Try not to break the thread either; I only have so much of that. If you use it on yourself, I'll just heal you back up, probably. If not, I guess I'll have to just treat your the regular way."

When was the last time he had actually done anything related to medicine, anyways? Without using Ahimsa? A few months, for sure, which wasn't any good. Even though he had finished medical school a little earlier than most, he was still new meat. As much as he disliked extra work, if he went out of practice, everything he had done would be rendered pointless.

"If you've gone this far trying only to suppress your power, maybe the way to go would be trying to expand it a bit. Sometimes progress in that direction helps people to better learn control. It's really just the movement you need to get a sense of."
 
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