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Handling Your Powers, Tuesday

The class met up in a simulated gym hall, a set of seats at the front, an open space at the back. Kaidan stood in front of the class, waiting for all the students to filter in and find their seats. His conversation with Jack yesterday had made it clear to him it might be necessary to share, in order to create an open space for discussion-- and so when everyone had arrived, he began to speak.

"I told you a little about myself last week," he said. "And then I had you share your own worries with me. I think it's only fair, in the interest of sharing, that I tell you my own story in full. I'm not saying this because I want any sympathy - I got over this a long time ago. But it was hard to get to that point. I made a lot of mistakes until I got a handle of myself."

He studied the class for a moment. Certain people in particular: they had had similar problems.

"As I've said, human biotics are still fairly rare. I was part of the first generation. When people like me started getting born, nobody knew what to do with us. There wasn't any precedent. Nobody had any experience with it. Sometimes biotic children would break their own limbs and nobody knew how to stop it. So they reached out to other species who had known biotics for a much longer time than we had. That led to the creation of BAat, Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training. It was a program aboard a boarding school, and they instated alien instructors to teach us."

"The problem was, we'd only just gotten out of a war with this same alien race," he continued, "A lot of our instructors were veterans of that war. So they found reasons to push us. It was a grueling program-- either you came out of it strong, or you came out of it broken. Several students died. We were supposed to do everything with our biotics, even the simplest tasks."

"One day, one of the instructors pushed too hard. He insisted a friend of mine, Rahna, pick up a glass using her biotics. She was exhausted and dehydrated; she just wanted a glass of water. When she refused to use her biotics, our instructor broke her arm." He took a breath. "I snapped. Lost my temper. I lashed out with my biotics. The instructor died, the incident was brushed under the rug, and the program was discontinued."

He glanced across the class once again, picking out the various faces, remembering what they'd said last week. "There wasn't any safety net for me when I got out. I had to figure out a lot of stuff on my own, and it wasn't easy. So I understand it, when you express worry about hurting someone, about having been in that position. I have. And it took me a long time before I reached a point where I could control it."

He ran a hand through his hair. "If anyone else wants to share their story, the floor is always open at the start of the class," he said. "We'll be starting with physical exercises today. I intend for us to open every class with them from here on in, but they won't be the focus of the lesson every time."

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Controlling.

Evan Sabahnur

Will West

Celia Bowen

Kathy Li

Eleanor Lamb

Billy Kaplan

Jackson Whittemore

Surreal SaDiablo

Vider Bearskin

Lecture, life story, one of these things.

Evan listened quietly, and every so often, he found himself holding his breath and looking down at his knees. He wanted to share. He really, really did. And he was terrified of the idea of doing it here, in a place where his classmates hadn't started out afraid of him.

Celia ached to tell about the times when she hadn't hurt anyone, but she'd been hurt in the name of gaining control over her own powers.

Her wrist still hurt, sometimes.

But she couldn't make her mind form the words -- not yet. She had barely talked about that aspect of her training with anyone. Maybe it was normal. Maybe she was simply weak.

Now more than ever, Kathy felt like an impostor. Who was she to be here in this class when she didn't have anything to contribute, powers or experiences-wise? This felt intensely private, like she was eavesdropping on something not meant for her.

She was going to stay very quiet and very still and hope to be overlooked.

No wonder he had been so kind to her, about her nearly killing Mother. Except it had been different; she had been free of her, then. Had Mother still been tormenting her, she wouldn't have stopped herself.

It made her sick, thinking of what had been done to him. And what had been done to her. And what had likely been done to several of the students around them.

The rage was settling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shake Mother until her teeth rattled. She wanted blood.

She couldn't say that. Not here. Not yet.

... for anyone to share their own stories or raise their own problems.

Eleanor hadn't meant to start talking, but suddenly, she was talking, and that was that.

"I'm afraid of scientists," she said, simply. "A teacher said he was a psychiatrist last week and I was horrible to him."

This wasn't sharing her story: she wasn't ready for that yet. But maybe ... maybe this was allowed, to express a concern and get advice on dealing with it. She hoped.

It was allowed; Kaidan looked startled for a moment, but only by the idea that his offer had actually-- worked, for someone. Mattered? That sounded too big.

"Dealt with a lot of bad scientists in your life?" he said, taking an educated stab in the dark. "They hurt you?"

Jesus. It really was the same in every dimension, wasn't it?

She was nodding, quickly. "They experimented," she added, and her voice had a slight tremble. "My genetics, my body, my mind."

She folded her arms, pulling in, hoping to regain her composure.

"They're not here," she said, in a steadier voice. "I'm jumping at shadows. It's ridiculous."

Kaidan wasn't really the kind of person to walk up and try to comfort someone physically, least of all a student. The thought crossed his mind for a moment, then it dispersed.

"Fear isn't rational," he said. "You can't beat yourself up for feeling afraid, Eleanor. You went through something pretty bad; there are going to be scars. You can learn to live with them, but you can't just put 'em back where they came from."

Okay, that was a valid point. Fear existed. Fear wasn't something to be locked away. Fear could be useful; that was why it had evolved, as a human emotion. So long as one didn't let fear run the show.

"All right," she said. "I ... Thank you."

She wasn't ... sure why she was thanking him, exactly. But she felt better, for having said it, and for him reassuring her that it was normal -- as normal as one could be, under the circumstances. It seemed appropriate.

He smiled a little.

"But if you want some tricks to help you get a hold of fear that bothers you," he said, "There are a few. I can't promise you any of them will help, though. I had to muddle my own way through too."

"I'd like that," Eleanor said, with a light smile. "Anything that might help, if you don't mind."

He'd tried a lot in his day. Trying to remember it... now there was a challenge.

"There's the old thing about, uh, counting to ten," Kaidan said. His expression was wry. "I'm not kidding. Sometimes it helps. The basic idea is-- you've got to make some space between the fear and the reaction. Or... between the fear and you. Counting is one way. Another one is to swallow it until you can write it down. Set a time of day when you're by yourself and let yourself really feel everything, do whatever you need, then you take all the notes and let it all out. So when the moment comes, you can tell yourself you'll have your chance. Later."

He paused. "For me, questions help," he said. "I try to be logical. Like-- does what I'm about to do make sense? Is there a reason why I'm feeling this way? Why am I angry? If I can defuse the reason behind it, usually, I can calm down."

Not always. But usually.

"But it's... really about what works for you personally."

Kaidan ran them through a couple of exercises. He began with simple body posture - straight up, take the worst pressure off the spine. Then he ran the class through a series of balance and coordination exercises, emphasizing shifting weight and awareness of motion.

He'd had a form of this back in BAaT, but under vastly different circumstances. In his experience, it helped.

It was, Evan found, actually really helpful to be aware of the motion of your body when you could change your body's shape on a whim. He followed along, motion for motion, taking mental notes so that he could incorporate this into his morning training every day.

Will couldn't really share a ton about things he'd lost control of but he could focus on the exercise. That was actually easy since he hadn't gone a run in.

He watched Professor Alenko go through the exercises once before he jumped in, following along as best he could.

Celia felt more than a little foolish, attempting these exercises in a full skirt and crinoline when it seemed like everyone else was dressed more practically.

Perhaps she'd have to start wearing trousers here, after all. The idea both excited her and made her profoundly uncomfortable.

This was something Kathy could do and not feel like a fraud. Being a gymnast meant she had to be well-aware of her body and how it moved and functioned.

It was lovely to be aware of one's body. Eleanor had spent too long trapped inside hers; moving it about was still a revelation, some mornings. Stretching and feeling herself present in the world was wonderful.

"I want you to sit down," Kaidan said. "Put your feet to the ground. Now, pay attention to your breathing. Make it deep, down to your stomach. Shut your eyes, and imagine your breathing like it's the roots of a tree... pushing down... through the ground. Then up, through each of your limbs..."

If there was a slight hint of wood grain shifting over the skin of Evan's arms as he exhaled, he certainly didn't seem bothered about it one way or another. He was doing what he was told, right? Like a tree.

Anyhow, people's eyes were supposed to be closed.

Will started concentrating on his breathing. He was going to have to maintain a tight grip here because if he thought about the tree too much, he was going to end up pushing a picture of a tree into someone's head and he didn't want to do that.

He relaxed and breathed, tensing up only when he thought he might slip.

Again, something else Kathy was good at. Deep breathing and stillness exercises were part of her routine to get ready for a competition.

There was a moment when she was imagining the air coming up through her legs and something...twinged? It wasn't painful at all. Just more like she was momentarily aware of extra energy coiled in her limbs, just waiting for the right moment.

She gasped, inadvertantly, and opened her eyes. No...nothing out of the ordinary about her legs and her next deep breath was normal.

Must have been a weird flash of imagination or something. She quickly shut her eyes again and hoped no one heard her.

This reminded Billy of class with Bruce, taking time to meditate, but that wasn't a bad thing at all. Sometimes it was nice to just sit down and try not to think about stuff.

The roots of her tree spread out below her, grounding her. Centering her. All of this would pass; the tree had seen many such things before, and would, again. The tree endured.

He's around for a few more minutes after class.

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Handling Your Powers, Tuesday

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