- Jun 5, 2016
- 164
- Pronouns
- she/her
- Posting Status
- Irregularly
Lucia, for the most part, didn’t mind school. She didn’t complain about work and teachers all the time, nor was she the type to look forward to learning each day. School was just another part of the daily routine. The core subjects were made exceedingly easy by her ability to learn faster. Her electives were enjoyable. Then there were power classes, the last class of the day, the final barrier in the way of freedom. Lucia wanted to learn how to control her powers, but power classes seemed to frustrate her more than anything. Her skills were increasing sluggishly; she preferred immediate results, but it took multiple weeks for her to progress even slightly. It was going to be a while before Lucia could truly handle her powers. Still, she persisted.
Today, Lucia was working on creating flames out of thin air, a difficult feat. This task tended to tire the troubled teen both mentally and physically. It required intense concentration to first summon the fire. Afterwards, she should be able to control the flames. Key word, should. She was still working on that part.
The small girl stood away from the rest of the group, not wanting to accidentally burn any of the other fire users. Her eyes were shut tightly as she struggled to block out all the sensory input she was experiencing: the muffled pounding of fists onto the heavily-stuffed dummies, the distant droning of professors to students, and the staticky crickle-crackle-crickle-crackle of the ever-present flames. If she shifted her attention, she might even be able to feel the warmth of the far-away flames...but she was supposed to be focusing. Her fists curled up. Focus, focus, focus.
@Thoth
Today, Lucia was working on creating flames out of thin air, a difficult feat. This task tended to tire the troubled teen both mentally and physically. It required intense concentration to first summon the fire. Afterwards, she should be able to control the flames. Key word, should. She was still working on that part.
The small girl stood away from the rest of the group, not wanting to accidentally burn any of the other fire users. Her eyes were shut tightly as she struggled to block out all the sensory input she was experiencing: the muffled pounding of fists onto the heavily-stuffed dummies, the distant droning of professors to students, and the staticky crickle-crackle-crickle-crackle of the ever-present flames. If she shifted her attention, she might even be able to feel the warmth of the far-away flames...but she was supposed to be focusing. Her fists curled up. Focus, focus, focus.
@Thoth