Kaidan Alenko (
not_a_whiner) wrote in
fandomhigh2014-03-04 02:50 pm
Handling Your Powers, Tuesday
"Welcome back from the trip," Kaidan greeted the kids as they came into the class. He sounded - and looked - a little tired. Which he was. He just didn't want it to affect his class. "Since we focused on the physical last time, I figured I could bring you guys in gentle this week."
"We're going to be doing some extended meditation exercises," he continued, "then we're going to sit down and everyone can share as much of their story as they want to. I'm using the word 'story' for a reason here - you can cover the last ten years or the last five days. One of the most important reasons we're here doing this thing is to learn from each other's experiences, figure out we're not alone in this crap."
He stepped past the desk. "Now let's get these tables out of the way..."
"We're going to be doing some extended meditation exercises," he continued, "then we're going to sit down and everyone can share as much of their story as they want to. I'm using the word 'story' for a reason here - you can cover the last ten years or the last five days. One of the most important reasons we're here doing this thing is to learn from each other's experiences, figure out we're not alone in this crap."
He stepped past the desk. "Now let's get these tables out of the way..."

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Physical Exercises - Movement
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He was pretty sure this whole year was going to be his supervillain origin story. He was trying not to let it be, at least.
Those almost-kicks were definitely where most of his focus was going during today's exercises.
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Physical Exercises - Stillness
"Okay, I want you to think about your breath," he said. "See it as a swing, going back and forth, sometimes slower, sometimes faster. Keep your mind on how the speed keeps changing..."
He took in a deep breath. "Now think about it in your diaphragm. Think about your clothes shifting with the motion of your chest. Think about the air coming in through your nose. It's cold-- like the ocean rolling in. Again and again, slow and steady."
"Think about how you're sitting here, right now, feeling the waves roll in quietly. You're safe and sound in this moment. Peaceful. Free..."
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Safe and sound were both wonderful notions to cling to. Peaceful, even better.
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She was powerful. No one could hurt her, now.
Peaceful. Free.
Discuss
He took a breath.
"We've talked about individual experiences in our lives before, and about a vague, global picture," he said. "But -- and I'm sorry if this sounds woolly or kind of, uh, out there -- I'd like us all to get some idea of who everyone is, what their story is, y'know? So instead of giving you all a prompt to talk about, today, I'm just going to-- you guys can talk. About whatever you want to, as long as it's vaguely on topic. About your lives, or something that's happened... anything."
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And then it all came out at once.
"I'm a clone," he said, softly. "I was created from the DNA of a little boy who was murdered in his playroom, who also just so happened to be the reincarnation of one of the most evil, powerful people my reality's ever known. The boy was being raised to be a champion of evolution, of the dominance of mutants over homo sapiens, to be a god among his people, like he's been in all of his other lifetimes before."
He swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed on.
"I was an experiment, made by the person who killed the boy. He wanted to know what would come out strongest in a contest of nature versus nurture. I was raised in a perfect home, in a virtual reality, with a Ma and Pa who took good care of me. I was taught to be a hero, and I had no idea what I really was until... until about a year ago, last week. Finding out the truth was... it was..."
He tapered off and shook his head, pulling in a ragged breath. It had been a year since he found out that everyone that had ever loved him either wasn't what they seemed, or wasn't real at all. A year since he found out just what sort of monster everyone was accusing him of being.
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Kaidan had enough experience and presence of mind not to say that out loud, though - and he'd heard enough from Evan before to be able to guess at... some of this.
But still, fuck.
"Hey," he said instead. "Evan. It's okay. You're right here, we're all real-- it's gonna be okay."
He was never really terribly good with words.
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He stopped there. He'd shared but he hadn't shared enough to get Dave and the Hierarchy mad. Will hoped not, at least.
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He bit his tongue and shrugged his shoulders a little. He was pretty sure Will got the point.
"There's no closure. It just hurts."
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She was getting better at tact. Marginally.
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"My mother died when I was five," she offered quietly. "At that time, I was given to my father for care -- they weren't married, and as far as I know hadn't even seen each other since the events leading to my conception. And my father is a practicing stage illusionist. He makes his living traveling the world and making doves appear out of thin air."
She smiled a little, wiggling her fingers. "But as we all know, they're not just illusions, and I inherited my father's magic. When I was five, and I came into his care, my father bound me to a challenge with a fellow magician: I have been trained, every day of my life since, to eventually face an unknown opponent who has also been trained for as long and as intensely, to see who is the better magician."
Celia cleared her throat, obviously a little uncomfortable. "That's why I'm so helpless without my powers," she added, shrugging. "At home, I I'm not even allowed tie my boots or pour the tea without magic, because it's part of my training." And if she sounded a little bitter about that -- well. There were two people in the room who knew explicitly how abusive her father's methods had really been, and it wasn't exactly difficult to read between the lines, anyway.
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That didn't address the bare fact of Celia's abusive childhood, but it was a legitimate question nonetheless.
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"My mother was arrested when I was six," she said. "I was sold to an orphanage. One that funneled girls through for experiments. Five to eight, that was the ideal range. The best yield. They made us -- made me into some freakish thing."
She couldn't talk about what was inside of her, just yet; only Joker had even heard of that before. She drew a steadying breath and continued.
"They scrambled my mind, and so I did their bidding. Then Mother came and rescued me. Except ... I think she did it because I belonged to her, and they'd stolen her property. It wasn't love, or affection. And so she kept me locked away from people, because of my condition."
She nearly spat the word, but she continued, nonetheless. "And she used the experiments they'd done on me to try to create a Messiah, to make some kind of Frankenstein uber-person. She kept me sedated and restrained while she treated me with higher and higher doses. She convinced her cult that I was their savior; they would gather by the windows and watch, and light candles. Keep vigil while she worked on me."
That wasn't the end, but that was suddenly, abruptly, all she was willing to say. She bit her lip and waited for someone to comment, or to change the subject, or anything.
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Talk to the Teacher
OOC