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winter 2018

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 Power Management, OPEN
Hazel Taylor
 Posted: Oct 17 2017, 05:26 PM
QUOTE
Spark
Eighteen AGE
339 POSTS
X-Resident
CLASS 3
Hazel TaylorAlia is Offline


Hazel didn't know why she chose the rec room over the library today. It tended to be noisier but then she could also pretend she was still a student here and 'connecting' with other students. Also, it meant if any of the teens had questions she was around to answer them rather then having them bug Ollie about it.

Today she had her laptop open, the book she was reading for fun, and her biology textbook open next to her. She had training this evening which was one of the reasons she was at the mansion rather than her father's house. Well, that and giving him time alone with Nomi.

Hazel was far from a prude but she had been aware of her mother having sex and also had seen it a few times as a little child. She didn't need to see her father have it as well, or hear it.

Her red hair was braided behind her today, getting ready for the session. Her hands skimmed over the laptop. Feeling the electrons in it. PUshing it just a bit. She had to be careful though. She had two broken ones in her room here. One had melted outright when she tried to push it too hard and the other had just stopped working. Still, she had done it before and it seemed to take this time.

Seemed too being the keyword. Everything seemed to work fine as she started working on her essay. Referencing back to the textbook as she went. But her hands started to spark as she got tired and her focus on the speed of the computer lapsed. She heard the grinding before she saw it or smelled it. "Fuck." She shouted right before smoke started to come from the side. The screen turning a nice shade of blue and the distinctive smell of burning electronics.

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This post has been edited by Hazel Taylor: Oct 17 2017, 05:27 PM
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Quentin Quire
 Posted: Jan 9 2018, 06:06 PM
QUOTE
OMEGA
eighteen AGE
78 POSTS
X-Resident
CLASS 5
Quentin QuireJoe is Offline


Quentin was no empath, but he wasn’t a stranger to emotions in people's thoughts either. As far as he was concerned, it was as simple as reading nonverbal cues. In fact, they were nonverbal cues, just not ones everyone could see. Even without the pouty look on someone’s face, Quentin could tell you if they were having a shit day or not. Some people would slam doors physically, but not before he’d picked up on the tantrum inside their head. Xavier was always quick to point out that he could readily calm these people; try to help them sort it all out rationally and better cope with whatever the hell it was they were trying to deal with. Quentin’s natural response, of course, had been simple.

Fuck that.

The telepath himself had been part of more than a few sessions of the time honored therapy known as Break Shit Until You Feel Better. Why should he take that away from someone else? Xavier was such a proponent of doing the right thing, but telling people how to think was only right about half the time. You could make people feel a certain way “to help them,” but it was more than frowned upon to readjust some anti-mutant asshat’s thinking or, even better (in Quentin’s eyes, at least,) convince them to take a long walk off a short cliff.

So when he noticed the figurative storm cloud forming over Hazel’s head as she lost control, ruining her laptop, he took a very hands off approach. Let her lose her shit over it. Be in a shitty mood. People were entitled to that, right? Even if she’d been the one fucking around with her computer in the first place. True, Quentin wasn’t going to talk Hazel down off whatever ledge she chose for herself, but that didn’t mean he was going to keep his nose out of it entirely. This was an opportunity for something, though what exactly was anyone’s guess, including Quentin’s.

He knew Hazel without really knowing her, which was generally enough when you were a telepath. They’d had a class or two together. She was smart enough, bit of an overachiever, really. Worked hard in classes that Quentin could easily sleep through; probably got about as irritated as anyone else when he got to be right (and a general asshole at the same time) without really trying. Hazel was the kind of girl teachers loved, and Quentin was the type of boy that teachers loved to fucking hate. It was just the natural order of things.

The telepath emerged from the kitchen, a cup of yogurt and spoon in hand just in time to hear Hazel swear violently, eyeing the computer with a dour look. He took a bite of some strawberry yogurt, studying the small smoke cloud for a second before swallowing the yogurt and speaking. ”Oh yeah?” He arched a pink brow, gesturing to the smoke with his spoon as he continued. ”I’m no genius, but...who are we kidding, of course I am. Yeah, it’s not supposed to do that. Breaking computers again, Hazel? If you’re bored, I’ve got a list. Adams would be devastated if you fragged his hard drive. All that weird porn probably took the better part of six months to scrap together off the internet.”

Quentin sank into a large, comfy looking chair and swung his legs over one of the arms in order to face Hazel. He took another bite or two from the yogurt, savoring the taste before his sighed, dropping the spoon into the plastic cup the yogurt had come in. He gave a very dismissive “I’m done with this” sort of gesture, and it flew off neatly into the closet trash can as Quentin laced his fingers together, hands resting on his stomach. ”How’s school? Still waving your hand eagerly until a professor calls on you? Or have you figured out that college professors are full of shit too?”

Tag: @Hazel Taylor
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Hazel Taylor
 Posted: Jan 12 2018, 10:53 AM
QUOTE
Spark
Eighteen AGE
339 POSTS
X-Resident
CLASS 3
Hazel TaylorAlia is Offline


There was always a frustration element to Hazel's powers. She never seemed to gain real control. The best she could get was that she wasn't constantly sparking out anymore. But get her emotional, agitated, or pissed off, well, then she started to slip. As it was now, annoyed and upset about this aspect of her power, one that she thought she might be able to do something cool with, sparks were dancing over her hands.

The apprentice of the purple haired boy was not helping her mood. True, her and Quentin barely knew each other outside of classes. They had a few together, and he was the type of person that annoyed her. A lazy know it all who didn't actually seem to bother learning much except could always answer the questions. He also always seemed so...smug. Once or twice she wanted to slap the smile off his face.

But they were also on the opposite ends in other ways. Hazel had a few friends but wasn't swimming in them. Most of her friends tended to be like she was, nerdy and geeky. Besides the fact that she was related to Xavier seemed intimidating to others. The purple haired telepath didn't seem to have the same kinds of problems.

She rolled her eyes about being a genius. "Not like you would ever be humble on that point." Her voice having just a bit of a snap to it. "I'm not looking for more to break, though if Adams computer is really full of that stuff, I'm not sure I want to go near it with a ten-foot pole. Probably all nasty inside and out." She made a little face. Who knew what he got on his keyboard while he looked at it. Not that anything electronic could infect her, but the idea of touching the computer kind of grossed her out.

She moved a little to face him better. Sighing at the display of his power while sparks still danced over her fingers. "School is fine. You decided to do anything productive with your life?" She countered. "And only some of the professors are full of shit. Most of them actually know something." She had figured out that her English professor said a lot of things to make himself sound smarter than he was, and that the grad student that ran her intro to psych course couldn't care less about being there.

"Have you decided to do something with your life or planning on still being here when you are fifty annoying everyone?"

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Quentin Quire
 Posted: Yesterday at 06:26 pm
QUOTE
OMEGA
eighteen AGE
78 POSTS
X-Resident
CLASS 5
Quentin QuireJoe is Offline


He laughed at her annoyance. She’d never liked him knowing all the answers and barely paying attention. But then, between his own intelligence and the ability to absorb knowledge from others like an overeager sponge, he hardly had to struggle with it. Homework? What was the point? He knew how to do it properly the first time. ”It’s called honesty, Hazel. It’s hardly bragging about being the smartest person in a given room if it’s true, now is it?” He shrugged. She’d taken the bait, though, and as she engaged him about someone else’s computer, he leaned forward a bit, eyes glimmering with amusement. ”Oh, please. You and I both know you wouldn’t have to touch it to fry it; not with those powers of yours. Just make with the zapping, and Adams’ll be in the worst porn draught since the Spanish Inquisition censored all that art.”

Plus he’d be handled for that shit he’d said to Cam, but Quentin didn’t need anyone knowing he was going around settling anyone else’s scores. After all, Cam probably wouldn’t like it, and anyone who knew might think he was getting soft, actually starting to give a shit about someone else. After all, he had a reputation to uphold. Couldn’t have people getting the wrong idea. As she mentioned doing something productive, he smirked, pushing his glasses a bit further up his nose. ”I could ask you the same question. Whiling away hours in a classroom isn’t exactly changing the world, is it?” No matter what Xavier wanted to tell them. It was just safer for all the little freaks to be locked away from all of the big bad humans, or even other mutants who would want them to hurt others. Teach them to hide behind people in leather and let others solve their problems for them. Hazel might be right; there were a few worthwhile teachers out there, but none of them could really keep up with him. ”Some of them know a few things worth knowing. But in the end, more than most are eager to peddle their particular worldview on someone else, so they have someone to nod along as they rant about this or that.”

Quentin pulled a set of keys from his pocket (one of the cars from the garage that he’d commandeered and twirled them about his index finger. Did he feel like he was really getting anywhere? No. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Hazel, who wasn’t even a telepath, much less on his level. No, he’d just continue on with his usual amount of swagger. ”Oh, you know how it is. Training with the Professor, making a little money here and there, and trying to make the old bald man see that he should have someone worthwhile teaching students. I mean, Xavier is all about letting the best person for each subject teach, until you come up with an idea that he doesn’t like.” The idea of getting old made Quentin stop twirling the keys and wrinkle his nose. It wasn’t an enjoyable one, really. That would imply staying here much longer than he deemed necessary. There’d need to be some reason to stick around, and he seemed to be running out of them as time drug on. ”If I make it to fifty. Don’t really plan on getting old and decrepit like some people around here. Even if I stuck it out, Xavier and the costume crew probably wouldn’t do much for my health.”

Tag: @Hazel Taylor
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