(2016-11-18) Mind Games
Mind Games
Summary: Ares still don't play nice.
Date: 2016-11-18
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://coralsprings.wikidot.com/logtitle)
NPCs: Players go below, other chars that deserve mention can be listed here
Scene Runner: Who ran this scene, NA if no-one or mutual


The School's library spans the very bottom of the old fort to the top of the Admin Hub. The center is open so one can see all the way from the bottom to the sun roof that lets the rays in, some full three to four stories in total height, no matter what level the student is on. It has several smaller alcoves with tables and comfy chairs for reading on the upper levels. A small cluster of research computers is set up for students who prefer internet searching to page turning located on the main school floor. Anywhere there's isn't bookcases inspirational posters are plastered against the walls. The check out is near the bottom, always manned and in order, the insignia for Coral Springs and the starting date on 1991.

The large grouping of such eclectic books leaves a dryness to the air and in some sections a faint musty odor. Anyone caught talking above a whisper will first get a stern glare and then be asked to leave if they can't quiet down.

Whitley's back at the school library, this time without his leather journal. Instead, he is seated at a table towards the history section, book bag leaning lightly against the leg of his chair. A thick book - or old tome? is in his hands. Dark eyebrows wrinkle in confusion every once and a while; clearly, he's having trouble understanding the writing here. It's a Friday night, most kids have better things to do than sit in a library studying, so there's only a smattering of students present.

The Library has always been a good, safe space for Sky. It's usually quiet and not always crowded, which means it's also mentally quiet for him. It means that he doesn't have to focus as hard on not getting overwhelmed. He bowed out of shopping with his sister and Charlotte…he needed some time to think and some time to himself. Odd, seeing how he has such a close bond with his twin. He also needed to work on the Literature project that he, Rain, and Besa are supposed to be doing together. It's what he's working on when he notices that another familiar mind is also in the library. Glancing up and over at the even lighter-haired teen, he considers a moment before getting up and moving to sit opposite Whitley at his table.

Black-polished fingers interlace on the table in front of him and he gives a light mental poke to the other. «How did you do those shields?»

Grey eyes study Sky carefully. Those same shields start to form, softly interweaving into Whitley's skull and making his surface thoughts impossible to read. Or at least, the thoughts he wishes to keep in. The corner of his lips tug in a pout, but he manages to resist that impulse and force a smile. "Like that." He offers, attempting to pass off the mind shield as a demonstration. "You're a telepath, right? You're telling me you never learned how to block someone out?" He looks genuinely curious but figures that Sky can't control the thoughts he hears, so he probably can't control the thoughts he emits.

As Whitley's surface thoughts fade away, Sky's brows draw down in a slight frown. He looks to the other and manages to read his lips fairly well, or rather enough to hold up a finger for the other to wait while he goes to retrieve his notebook and pen. He writes something on a fresh page before showing it to Whitley, 'I wasn't born with these. I got the powers in April. They're trying to teach me but I still can't help but hear all the residual 'thought' noise.'

Whitley frowns too, but for different reasons. He idly bites down on his lower lip, reading the words written. A sigh later, and his shields lower completely. "Sorry. I assumed my psychic defenses were more…subtle," He'll have to work on that, he thinks, running a hand through his white hair. "I could attempt to teach you, but it would take time." Looking around the library, he shrugs. "And would require a less public setting." He grins a bit and says, "Hiding any particularly scandalous secrets up there?"

«I don't like the noise.» It may be cliche, but he's had his life, his perception be a certain way for the last thirteen and a half years and now it's changed. «It hurts my head when it gets to be too much. I also don't want people reading -my- mind.» There's a little smirk at that as Sky takes the notebook back. «No scandalous secrets. Not that I'm aware of.»

Whitley can't relate. He's been this way for over three years now. In spite of that, he nods. "Well, my shielding is designed to keep others out of my head, not the other way around," He shuts the book, sliding it over. "When I was younger, I went through similar experiences. I managed to eventually…" His mind becomes a jumble of incomprehensible words. Probably a leftover layer of the psychic defense. It calms down soon enough, "stop. Hearing, I mean. And started blocking. That's where my main abilities lie. That and my senses."

«Eventually? How long is 'eventually'? I have to take a pain-pill in order to stop it from hurting. Every night. Sometimes more than every night if it's a hard day.» Sky looks at the other. «I can take those senses away. Or make them stronger. And this…» he gestures about his head to indicate the whole telepathy thing. «But it would be helpful if I could shut off the noise without taking one of the pills.»

"It took my father a year or so to perfect it, and it still doesn't work against someone stronger than your average Joe," Whitley smirks a bit. "But my father was not a telepath." A pause. "I could try to help," He leans in, considering the other boy carefully. "And if you could teach me how to do that talking thing with your mind, that'd be great."

The two light-haired teens are at one table…Whitley has a large, tome-type book and there is a notebook near Sky with a little writing on it. Whitley is speaking while Sky is doing his mind-speech so it does sort of look like a one-sided conversation. Seeing as he's able to get out of his school uniform, Sky is back in his more comfortable (to him) Goth style.

«I don't know that I can explain how to talk to another, but I can try. Rain and I have always been able to talk to each other and this is sort of an extension of that. But…» he holds out a hand, «I'll give it a shot if you will.»

Dressed in her school uniform, having spent the time after the spar getting cleaned up, Charlotte is in the pleated skirt and blouse of the school uniform. A pair of white knee highs are worn with it, exposing just a hint of skin between her upper leg and hem of her skirt. Her blouse is covered with a knit wool sweater, the crest of the school on it's breast pocket, while she wears the Ares colors in a simple tied ribbon at her throat, and matching ribbon in her hair. Although the silver chain decorated with French coins is also around her neck, hints of the chain peeking from beneath her blouse as she heads up to the counter to check out a couple of books. The young lady hasn't noticed the two boys yet, as she sets out her list to be pointed to the books she needs for her English class.

Whitley frowns at the hand. He sorta feels like he could be signing a deal with the devil here, but hey, if it doesn't work out, he can quite literally ignore Schuyler forever. He shakes the hand, the frown easily slipping into a smile. "I am." The sophomore notices Charlotte but doesn't acknowledge her in any way. The library is relatively empty after all, and not much gets passed him.

Schuyler even offers a bit of a smile right back as the hand is shaken. It's not like a contract has been signed, but Sky is giving some trust to another in regards to his mind. Not many have access. Even as Whitley seems to notice Charlotte, Sky turns in her direction, that familiar knot forming again in his stomach. He was sure he didn't eat anything bad today! Of course, it's also hard for him to turn his gaze away.

After getting instructions on the direction that she needs to go in to collect her books, Charlotte turns from the counter. And that's when she notices the two guys sitting over at the table, shaking hands and chatting. She ducks her head slightly as she goes over the events earlier in the day, before reaching up with her left hand to push some hair over her ear before she makes her way towards the table where they are sitting at. "Hey." she greets gently. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. When emotions are running really high.. I tend to get a little overwhelmed. And I didn't want to say something that anyone would regret. I hope I can still come with you and your sister for Thanksgiving?" she asks, offering her hand to Schuyler in friendship, not quite able to mask the deep concern in her features before she musters a smile for Whitley. "Bonjour." she greets. "I am Charlotte. You are a friend of Sky's?"

The sophomore watches Sky's gaze go to Charlotte, a brow raising suggestively. Then the girl starts walking over, and suspicions are confirmed. "Yes," Whitley doesn't really know about that, but his confident smirk wouldn't suggest otherwise. "My name is Whitley King." He takes a moment to look over her attire before offering, "Nice accent." The talk of past events does get a curious smile out of Whitley. He's trying not to be nosy, but he is looking between Sky and Charlotte inquisitively.

Schuyler just sort of stares at Charlotte when she approaches…even when she speaks. It takes him a good moment or two to realize that she's sort of saying something for him. «It's…ok,» is actually mentally stammered, as if he can't really form much thought at the moment. Maybe it's because of that knot in his stomach. When she mentions Thanksgiving, his eyes widen, «Yes. Please. You're…you should still come.» It could be the fact that he managed to eke out almost a complete sentence that he gains a little more ability to 'speak'. «This is Whitley,» even though he just introduced himself.

"A pleasure to meet you, Whitley. It is good to meet a friend of Sky's." Charlotte is polite, if anything. The blonde offers a warm smile as she nods. "Then I will make sure to pack properly for the trip and purchase a proper outfit for your family's dinner." Once Rain tells her what the dress code is, that is. "Anyway, I need to pick up a couple of books for my class, so I will see you later. I just wanted to make sure we were cool, Sky." She beams him a smile and offers a slight curtsey, holding her pleats so they don't flare before she turns to head off on her search.

"Likewise," Whitley nods back, head turning to watch Schuyler mentally stumble over his words. He's grinning and is trying, but failing, to hide it. Then Charlotte's on her way out, and Whitley just waves. "See you later, Charlotte." He calls out from behind her.

«You can stay…» Sky manages before he looks back to Whitley. She can stay, right? «We're fine. I'm not upset at you.» He'd try to smile, but he's not entirely sure his face is working at the moment. «We were talking…» at least he's forming words.

"No, it's fine." Charlotte finds herself at a loss for words for a change, and then smiles. "I appreciate it, I just need to get there, and I have a lot of catchup work to do so I can be freed up to visit your family." she promises. "I was planning on doing this over break and the new plans have sort of turned that upside down." The young blonde glances between the two. "Have a good evening!" And with that, she's heading off, folding her hands behind her back as she hums to herself as she heads down one of the rows of shelves.

Whitley watches Charlotte as she moves to leave before turning to Schuyler, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Someone's crushing hard," He snickers, trying hard to repress a full laugh. According to Besa, it's not very nice. "I didn't know mental stammering was a thing until now." He really can't help himself. "Now I know why you wanted those mental shields. Trust me, it doesn't take any mind reading to see that you're," Fake gasp, deeper voice. "In love." More giggling.

Schuyler was indeed watching Charlotte as she moved away but at Whitley's comments, he looks back sharply. «What?» He signs as well as mentally-speaks, not that Whitley can read them…or even Charlotte. «It's not…I'm not…» but he can't finish as lying is really, really hard to do with telepathy. «That's not why!» At least he can answer that truthfully. There's a brief glance to see if Charlotte may have overheard before he mind-murmurs, «Shut up.»

As she's walking away, Charlotte gets that little voice in the back of her head. She reaches up, rubbing at the side of her face before she turns and glances at Whitely and Schuyler's table. Could he? Nah. Surely he just likes her as a friend, and is just being nice for his sister. Shaking off the thought as absurd, the girl continues on her way to find her books.

Whitley is a bit more successful at containing all that laughter. He nods his head, playing along. "I'm sure, I'm sure. I, too, ogle at every girl that's 'just a friend'." Finger quotes accompany that last bit, and the sophomore waves off the request to shut up. "Oh, if she can't already tell that you're into her, then I'm positive nothing I say will change that."

«I'm not ogling!» that might be a little 'lounder' than he intended. Granted, Sky's cheeks are flushed and he's somehow managing not to sink into the floor or try to figure out how to erase someone's mind. Maybe his own.

"Well, yeah, not anymore obviously. She's gone," Whitley chuckles, knowing full well that's probably not what Schuyler meant. "But you were!" He insists. "I'd offer not to tell anybody, but if you keep that up, the whole school will know about your little crush way before I could tell a soul." There's a pause as he chuckles softly before he adds, "I'm just teasing."

«I was not!» Sky insists, scowling now. Because 'ogling' to him seems to be looking at feminine assets. He was looking at her whole person! Or he thought he was. His own grey eyes glance to the fingers that were placed on her mouth for the whispering earlier. Whitley gets a sharp glance, «Don't say anything about this.» There might be a hint of a threat in there…«I don't like being teased.»

Whitley is not threatened. How could he be? He merely smirks at the slight threat in Sky's mental tone. "I wouldn't dare, Schuyler," There's a moment where that smirk becomes roguish again, and he adds, with some edge of his own, "But if an inexperienced telepath just happens to pluck a residual thought from my brain…I can't be blamed for that, can I?" There's something personal in that jab that might indicate that his earlier words on telepaths weren't exactly genuine. But the emotion is quickly put aside, and Whitley shrugs. "I can tell."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Whitley=psychic Vs Schuyler=psychic
< Whitley: Success Schuyler: Good Success
< Net Result: Schuyler wins - Marginal Victory

Schuyler's hands are unlaced and gripping the edge of table by this point and he's just watching Whitley, his eyes narrowed. The thing is, Whitley is harder for him to read. He does extend his mental 'feelers' to see if he can believe the other…it might be pressing this new agreement, but the last thing Sky needs is for there to be a rumor about him and Charlotte. Nevermind that Whitley's observations may be correct, even if they're not yet admitted. «Don't say anything.»

Whitley was leaning back in his chair, casually watching the younger guy. When his mind becomes the subject of Schuyler's prodding, however, his eyes widen in shock. Suddenly he's up, fists clenched so hard, his knuckles turn white. For Schuyler, that might have just been some weird lie detector tactic, but for Whitley, Sky has just declared mental warfare. Without taking a second to figure out Schuyler's intent, his mind instinctively starts resisting, barriers blocking out those 'feelers' at every turn. Try as he might, Whitley does lose this battle, and Sky would find that Whit had no real intention of telling anyone.

The white haired teen is glaring daggers over at the other boy. If looks could kill. "Not cool, dude. Stay out of my head." No attempt is made to try and veil that threat.

Schuyler stands slowly even as Whitley gets to his feet, but his fists aren't clenched. He's watching…waiting. Maybe he's ready to fight back should an attack come. It was really the reassurance that he was looking for — that Whitley wasn't going to say anything. He doesn't seem afraid, however. «Fair enough.» No apology and maybe their deal is now null and void, but he doesn't want rumors spread around until he can figure things out. «I just had to be sure.»

Whitley scowls at that excuse. "No! You can't just prod into my mind whenever I say something you don't like," Very loud for library talk, there's a few shushes. He's flustered and angry, but most of that frustration is actually directed towards himself. He starts pacing then, back and forth, right in front of Schuyler. This is clearly freaking him out a lot, and for the duration of this display, Schuyler is completely shut out. He runs a shaking hand through that white hair trying to calm himself. After a moment, he comes to a halt. "Look, I know I say some dumb shit sometimes, but never, ever do that again. I mean it."

Schuyler glances about as Whitley is shushed but he then looks back to the fellow Ares. He watches him pace, shut out as the other's mental shields go up, but he can get an idea of his movements and body language. «Don't give me reason to.» That seems to be the best answer he can come up with to the other demand.

No one ever said Sky was particularly nice.

Whitley's fists clench and unclench over and over again. He just stands there, considering Schuyler and internally debating whether or not to punch the kid in the face. That didn't turn out well last time though, so he decides against it; instead he moves to gather his things. Shoving the checked out book in his backpack, he lets out a small, "Whatever." He's still a bit shaken when he mutters, "I'll swing by your dorm to teach you that shielding thing later." He's not sure if he plans on following through with that himself, but he turns and marches out of the library before he can be questioned.

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