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Post by Bobby Drake on Sept 27, 2010 23:56:10 GMT -4
Being a psychic is hard work.
Though Bobby was still completely incapable of summoning his power at will, he was more convinced than ever of their existence. The other day he was talking with Kitty and they both said Cheetos at the exact same time. And Bobby totally knew what she was thinking!
Maybe that was how his power worked, like totally off of intuition or something.
"Man this crap will make your head hurt." Bobby put a hand up to his head as he felt a headache starting to develop. He pulled his ball cap down over his eyes a little and headed down the hallway.
"Hey Chris," he called out and hustled over to the brunette. They weren't exactly on the best of terms, but everyone liked Bobby Drake.
He didn't need psychic powers for that one.
"Hey Chris. I need you to give me mental lessons." He looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone and then pointed at his head. "If you know what I mean."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Sept 28, 2010 7:54:47 GMT -4
She blinked her eyes at the use of a name in regards to her. Yes, Chris did... feel familiar. She mentally stored that way for later going over. Now, what had he.. Oh, yes, mental lessons. She pursed her lips together for a moment, trying to think of how to explain.. Wait.. Wait a minute.
She looked at him curiously. "Bobby," she said softly, quietly, looking at him intently. "Not that I'm not flattered that you're asking me but.. shouldn't you be asking.. asking.." her voice trailed off as she struggled to remember. "Asking the professor to teach you. I mean, I'm the last person you'd want as a teacher as I'm not in control. You saw what I did in the kitchen," she said quietly, referring to the shattered glasses and the jostled windows.
"The Professor is much more trained then I am," she said. "I do want to help you but.. learning from him would probably be wiser." Sighing, she continued. "But, if you insist.. I suppose I could try and teach you."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Sept 28, 2010 8:57:29 GMT -4
Bobby shook his head emphatically. “I thought about asking the Prof,” he admitted truthfully. “But I think this would be way better. For both of us I mean. You know, it’s like doc McCoy always used to say. Teacher, teach thyself.” He had it a little wrong, but even if he had known that he probably wouldn’t have changed it one bit. That would have been fine and dandy, but in this case it almost didn’t quite fit with what he was really trying to say.
“Or something.”
He shrugged and looked at her hopefully. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t really want to take this to Xavier just yet. Truthfully, deep down he was pretty scared.
“Okay, good.” He closed his eyes and took several really big breaths. This was something he’d seen in a movie one time. He was trying to find his inner peace or something. After a few minutes of this he opened his eyes and looked at Chris. “I’m ready.”
Reaching out, he put his hand on the side of her head like Spock did in his Vulcan mind-meld. “Let’s begin,” he said quietly. Then he focused on projecting his thoughts, which turned inevitably toward bikinis and the girls that filled them.
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Sept 28, 2010 9:14:38 GMT -4
"Yeah, Doctor McCoy did say a lot of things," she murmured, wondering why she remembered that but not the man himself. Another thing for her to mentally review at a later date. Wait, what was Bobby...?
She blinked when he touched her head a la Mr Spock. Seriously? Did he really think that's how the powers worked? Well, she wasn't about to correct him - at least, not yet. She closed her eyes and just allowed her powers to whisp free, touching his mind, prodding and poking a little. Her mental touch was soft, gentle and more then a little reluctant.
If Bobby had any true mental powers (and she wasn't sure if he did or didn't - but that wasn't her real concern), he'd feel her touch and try to shove her back - a sort of "this is mine, keep out" reaction.
A whisp of what he was projecting shimmered into her mind. Typical Bobby, she thought, her lips curving up in a small smile. Girls, bikinis.. Typical male response. "Let me guess what you're thinking of.."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Sept 28, 2010 13:49:49 GMT -4
Though it was a challenge, Bobby tried to push the bikini-clad girls out of his mind. For the time he disregarded Chris’s teasing question and tried to really focus on being ‘open’. To no effect. The more he tried to blank his mind the more something within him strove to fill every open thought with something.
There were more girls, and cars, and fireworks, and Marvin the Martian, and then he started seeing elephants running and a giant eagle or something flying. And then the bird burst into flame and dove toward the ground and when it hit the whole world exploded. Shards of glass flew outward in all directions…
…and then he saw a vision of Chris. Only she didn’t look happy or even confused like she usually did these days. She looked pissed.
“I didn’t know you were such a bad girl,” mental Bobby said, his physical counterpart echoing the thought.
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Sept 28, 2010 21:05:51 GMT -4
"I'm not sure I'm wanting to know what you saw," she said quietly, already feeling edgy. There was something that Bobby saw that frightened her - had what he had seen, showed her.. Had that really been her? She didn't remember it, didn't want to remember it. That couldn't be her, could it? She wasn't that bad, was she? She shuddered, not wanting to think about it.
She wanted to end the lesson now, not wanting to go further, but something yearned to know more.
"Makes me wonder if that did, will, can, would happen," she mused.
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Post by Bobby Drake on Sept 30, 2010 14:34:46 GMT -4
Bobby mouthed the words she had just said. What did will can how when? Yup. She lost him. He shrugged. “I don’t know.” Seemed like a safe answer. “But let me try to read your mail this time.”
He took a deep breath.
“Okay, I’m seeing hair. Lots of hair. And bluuue…” He pinched his eyes shut tightly. “Blue and hair and poof…it’s gone.” His eyes snapped open. “I think I got it,” he said emphatically. “You’re thinking getting a haircut!” He paused. “In the…sky?”
Weird.
He put his hands on either side of her head so he could get a better look. Then he shook his head. "Don't do it. I think you look fine."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Sept 30, 2010 14:48:52 GMT -4
Blue? Hair? Somehow the image tried to form for her but it just wouldn't form. She made a mental growl of frustration at her lack of ability to focus. "I think I'll leave the blue to you, Popsicle," she said, giving him a tiny smile. "Looks better on you."
She tilted her head as she watched him. "I don't look fine, Bobby," she said quietly. "I probably look like an emotional wreck. These past few days.. it's been a drain on my system. I wish things were normal again," she murmured, moving so she could tuck her knees under her chin.
"Bobby.. that .. what you showed me.. that's not me, is it? That woman.. that's not what I'm like, is it? Is that why that girl from the kitchen didn't like me?"
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Post by Bobby Drake on Oct 1, 2010 13:53:46 GMT -4
Bobby remembered a time when he didn’t like the nickname ‘Popsicle’. He remembered thinking that a popsicle was something that you sucked on. He didn’t mind it too much any more.
But Chris was already talking again, sharing with him about how she felt like an ‘emotional wreck’. He noticed that didn’t he? Of course he did! It must have been the powers at work again. Then she moved again and he noticed how flexible she was.
He took a deep breath. She was really upset, and he didn’t have it in him to say anything funny, though he was pretty sure he could get her to laugh if he really tried. “I don’t know what that was,” he admitted as he sat down beside her. He didn’t know exactly what to do, and thought that maybe tucking his own knees under his chin might be a little awkward, so he just put an arm around her. “But I do know that you have a good heart.”
Bobby didn’t like seeing anyone all gloomy. Especially not his friends.
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 1, 2010 13:58:37 GMT -4
"A good heart," she repeated softly, wanting, needing to latch onto anything that gave her a glimpse into what she had lost, forgotten, wanted to remember but couldn't. She allowed a ghost, a whisp of a smile to cross her lips and she gently lay her head on his shoulder, allowing herself to rest there for a moment.
"Bobby," she murmured quietly. "Promise you won't tell the Professor what you saw? I.. I'm not sure I'd like him knowing about that.. yet anyway." She trembled a little before stopping. She fell silent, trying to put her thoughts together, and failing miserably.
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Post by Bobby Drake on Oct 4, 2010 11:35:05 GMT -4
“No way,” Bobby said in response, emphasizing each word as a stand-alone thought. “I’m not even sure I want the Professor knowing about my new power yet. I’m a little freaked out about the whole thing to be honest.”
But the thought occurred to him that he might not be able to keep it a secret from the world’s most powerful telepath. But he figured the best he could do was to build some sort of mental wall or something. And so while he consoled a distraught friend he went about imagining himself putting up a mental barrier brick by brick. He had on a pair of overalls and a baseball cap pulled down low with a thick carpenter pencil stuck into the cap and a really serious look on his face as he trowelled the mortar on between each layer of mental brick.
“So…what do you remember?”
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 4, 2010 11:47:13 GMT -4
"Not much," she said quietly. "Bits and pieces. I'm lucky if I remember names. You.. keep calling me Chris.. But.. I know I should know that's my name but.. it doesn't feel familiar.. if that makes any sense." Her voice was soft and wavering and full of confusion and pain. "A doll.. I remember a doll," she said, quietly. "A blue fuzzy elf.. That I carried like a security blanket. It was one of the few things that made me feel safe. A brother.. But he never played with me. Mother said his power was.. dangerous," she said, remembering bits of her childhood, but nothing concrete.
"Kevin," she said quietly. "His name was Kevin."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Oct 7, 2010 9:32:24 GMT -4
“It makes sense,” Bobby said quietly.
Not.
“Blue fuzzy elf. You must be dreaming about Kurt again,” he said teasing her a little. It was no big secret that Chris was hot for Kurt. Bobby furrowed his brows as he thought about it. Or was it? Maybe this was just his mental powers raging out of control again. Maybe it was something that was going to happen in the future.
Remembering what he’d learned in Back to the Future with Michael J. Fox, Bobby thought he better really watch how he was presenting things. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up the future with his big mouth!
He switched the subject instead.
“Kevin?” That sounded familiar too, though he didn’t know why exactly. It was such a common name. Why did it scare the whiz out of him? He shrugged. “Well all of our powers can be dangerous,” he commented.
“Even Doug’s.”
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 7, 2010 14:05:50 GMT -4
Her cheeks burned a bright crimson when Bobby said she had been dreaming about Kurt again. God, was she really that obvious when it came to the fact that she developed a crush on the German mutant? Still blushing, she voiced that question aloud, "Am I really that obvious?" she asked shyly, quietly.
"How can Doug's power be dangerous?" she asked. Wasn't his power something to do with the spoken, the written word?
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Post by Bobby Drake on Oct 7, 2010 16:38:44 GMT -4
“Ya think?”
Bobby had to tease her about the fact that she got all red-faced when she was around Kurt. Kind of like she was now. He smiled at her and with his arm still draped casually around her he gave her a little squeeze. “It’s okay though. I’m pretty sure he’s oblivious. He doesn’t understand chicks the way I do.”
In regard to Doug and his power, Bobby didn’t have an immediate answer. He wasn’t really sure what he meant about Doug’s power being dangerous, but now that he was faced with trying to figure it out he was more sure than ever that it potentially was.
“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I figure…what could be more dangerous than words?”
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