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* Ennis approaches the mansion-turned-school a few minutes wanting to the hour, having obtained directions from the barkeep. He's dressed as usual, cleanly and neatly. <Tyl> ::despite only the few summer students in attendance, the school is far from deserted. Apparently, the school has grown somewhat and a second building is being constructed across the yard. A few workers linger in the cool halls from the heat of the day and the occasional student scurries on to class or lunch:: * Ennis looks around with interest, a bit bemused by the bustle of construction. He politely stops a student in the hallway to ask directions to the headmaster's office. <Tyl> ::the student, who eyes him with a bit of curiosity, points him in the right direction, then runs off to her class, startling him excessively by phasing through a nearby wall:: * Ennis stops for several frozen heartbeats, staring at the place the student disappeared. He takes a deep breath, shakes his head a little, and follows her directions to the office, straightening his shirt self-consciously and knocking politely. <Tyl> ::glances up from scrutinizing a stack of papers:: Come. * Ennis enters and offers her a polite bow. "Headmistress Nightstorm? I'm Ennis, I believe Master Rhys from the Meadehall contacted you...?" * Tyl stands up as he enters, brushing a handful of escaped black locks back into her valiant attempt at a bun. "Indeed he did. Come in. Have a seat." * Ennis nods and takes a seat in the straight-backed chair in front of her desk, automatically putting his knees together. Tension straightens his spine instinctively, and Tyl gets the impression that he is not entirely unfamiliar with the inside of a headmaster's office, and not because he was best boy four years running. * Tyl returns to her seat, folding her hands on top of her desk in her best imitation of the strict school marm. She maintains that pose, raising one eyebrow severely. "I believe you wanted a word?" She gives him a thin-lipped smile that doesn't touch her eyes. * Ennis clears his throat nervously. "Forgive me, Headmistress, f'r not contacting ye directly. When I heard o' ye, I made the mistaken assumption that y' were some manner o' seer. I didna realize..." His gesture takes in her desk, the school, the new construction going on outside, and he looks a little stunned. "I... I saw a girl go through a *wall.*" * Tyl bursts into a merry laugh, the rest of her bun giving up all semblance of order as she slouches back in her chair, putting one foot up on her desk. "Oh, that was classic." She laughs again. "Sorry. Forgive me my laugh at your expense, but you look so... serious." * Ennis grins wryly and nods, accepting the joke on him. "I was raised in a religious house, Headmistress. All this--" there's a twinkle in his eye as he indicates the desk and chairs, "brings back memories, it does. *Painful* ones." He grins a little wider and leans forward to rub his backside significantly. <Tyl> ::shakes her head:: Well, it'd be a damned fool who tried to beat one of my students. As many fools have discovered. ::she clears her throat:: So? How can I be of assistance, this excessively hot and unpleasant sort of day? Care for something to drink? I've lemonade or beer. Or rum. Is it too early to offer rum? ::she glances out the window:: <Ennis> An ale'd be most welcome, aye. ::grins:: An' where I'm from, anything's fair game after th' noon-hour's struck. <Ennis> T' make a long story short, headmistress, I'd heard your name as th' one who discovered... psionics? ::raises an enquiring eyebrow at her to check his pronunciation:: Or proved them, or what-have-you. And I was wonderin', is there a way t' tell if a body *has* these "psionics"? * Tyl narrows her eyes slightly and levitates a bottled beer from the coldbox in the corner, depositing it neatly on Ennis's end of her desk. From her desk drawer, she removes a bottle and cup, pouring herself a few fingers of rum. This, too, she stares at until the glass rimes over with frost. "There." <Ennis> ::shakes his head a little, and uncorks his beer:: I'm thinkin' 'tis been far too long I've been out o' cities. Marsember's a wondrous place. <Tyl> ::grins:: I have a tendency to show off when overly inspired by my own grandeur. This really is a hideous office, don't you think? I think I'll move into Kennan Hall when it opens. <Ennis> ::looks around, seeing it for the first time:: 'Tisn't so bad. Homey. ::eyes the stack of paperwork on her desk and grins a little:: And I dinna think they'd let ye leave that here, more's th' pity. <Tyl> ::nods:: You're probably right. ::more seriously:: Well, precog's not my specialty, but I've dabbled in it. Certainly, I know the theory. And yes, there are some ways to determine psychic abilities. Had a bit of a disruption in your life? <Ennis> I... ::he shifts in his chair a little, crossing his legs and taking a swig of the beer:: I've a... rather odd gift that I'd always thought was a sign o' favor from above. But, well... He an' I, we've had a bit o' fallin' out, I believe, an' yet I have it still. I've since been told it's not magical. So when I heard, I thought t' give ye a go, an' see if it was psionics. <Tyl> You're on your god's bad side? Bet that's made your life interesting. ::she considers:: When'd this 'gift' develop? <Ennis> Well... ::shifts uncomfortably:: I'm on th' bad side o' a few o' His stalwarts, at th' least. An' I b'lieve ye can see why I'd rather not go an' ask *them* where it's from, aye? I'm not rightly sure when I realized 'twas more 'n childish imaginings. ::thinks:: Mayhap... 12? 13? I'm... ::colors a bit:: I'm not rightly sure o' my age, either. I was raised an orphan, ma'am. <Tyl> ::rolls her eyes dramatically:: Don't you love priests, sometimes? ::she studies her hands a moment:: Well, that's about right. Most people develop their abilities around puberty. Jalavier and I have a bit of a theory about the induction of endocrines into the body as often occurs ::notes that Ennis is drifting off as she gets technical:: Never mind. Shop talk. Anyway... I might be able to help you. <Ennis> ::a little hesitantly:: I'm not o'er-rich, ma'am, but I'm willin' t' pay ye for yer time. I've been savin' up a bit. <Tyl> ::snorts:: Tosh. The worst I'll charge you is to run down to the Caf and grab me some lunch. Psionics is often hungry work. No, the difficulty is *you*. <Ennis> ::blinks:: Me? ...ma'am? <Tyl> Well, you're not exactly a youngling anymore. If you've got this ability, you've had it for a while. If you are psionic, you've probably developed some natural defenses. And, of course, you have to trust me. Which is harder than it sometimes sounds. <Ennis> ::blinks again:: Ye mean... let down m' guard? ::smiles:: That I can do f'r ye. ::spreads his hands:: What is't ye need t' do? * Tyl moves to the other side of her desk and sits up on the edge. "Scootch over here a bit." * Ennis scootches obligingly. <Tyl> All right ::she leans forward a bit and puts her fingertips against his forehead:: Try not to think too much, just drift... let your mind wander off... ::her voice takes on a soothing, hypnotic tone:: * Ennis nods faintly against her fingers, closing his eyes obediently, slipping into a meditative state. * Tyl frowns, then closes her own eyes, concentrating. * Tyl leans back, opening her eyes. "Hmmm. That's interesting." * Ennis cracks an eye open after a moment and peeks up at her. <Tyl> Just the horse thing? <Ennis> ::blinks and opens his eyes fully:: If'n ye mean that, when I talk t' horses, sometimes they talk back t' me, aye. Jes' "th' horse thing." Far as I know. Is that it, then? <Tyl> ::shrugs:: It's as much as I can tell. ::she bites her lip:: Wild talent. * Ennis cocks his head curiously. "An' that means...? Aye, it's psionics?" <Tyl> ::nods:: Sort of. Well, yes, it is, but... ::she sighs:: Hard to explain, exactly. You've got one, or maybe two abilities, and you might be able to learn to use them better. It's doubtful, however, that you'll ever develop any more abilities. <Ennis> ::nods:: And... is aught wrong wi' that? <Tyl> Well, not entirely. ::she pulls her legs up onto the desk, looking like nothing more than a child:: But it does mean your mind is a little more open than a normal person's. And you haven't got any defenses against it. <Ennis> ::shrugs a shoulder:: I'm a peaceful man, headmistress. I see naught wrong wi' that. Or-- should I? <Tyl> Not really. Or, at least, no more so than not wearing actual armor. You're still in a lot of trouble if someone tries to stab you. But most people don't have those problems. ::she smiles:: I just worry, sometimes. Hyperactive imagination, you might say. * Ennis glances back at her door and grins. "Ye're surrounded by lads an' lasses in th' full flower o' their youth. I dinna think t'would take much imagination t' see th' trouble they could get into." <Ennis> I didna feel ye do... whate'er ye did. But then, I was tryin' t' be still. Would I know, were someone t' attack me? That way, I mean? ::taps his head:: <Tyl> There's a bit of a... sort of mundane kind of talent. It's a bit tricky to learn, but I've taught it to a few... well, normals. Don't take offense at the term, but that's what we tend to call them, around here. If you'd like, there's a seminar class on that in the fall, when semester starts up again. * Ennis rubs his chin, considering, and nods slowly. "Aye... p'raps t'would be wise." He looks up at her again and nods more firmly this time. "I'll do it, if ye'll have me." He looks relieved, a faint lingering tension gone from around his eyes. "I'm right glad t' know what it is. That... well, tisn't... ne'ermind." He smiles, and extends a hand. "My thanks, Headmistress." * Tyl takes his hand. "I've come across very few actual cases of demon possession in my time, Ennis." <Ennis> ::looks wry:: Not sure which'd be worse. That, or havin' t' face... ::colors again and jerks a thumb upward:: <Tyl> ::snorts:: Heh. Well, if you're in the market for a new deity, I'm on close terms with a few of Her priests. <Ennis> "Her?" I... jes' as soon play it easy f'r a bit, I'm thinkin'. I've... ::looks down:: Well... 'tis... complicated. <Tyl> I'm joking. ::she jumps down from her desk:: You'll get used to it. Or you won't, and you'll be really confused, most of the time you're dealing with me. <Ennis> ::grins broadly at her:: Here's hopin' I don't, then. 'Tis infinitely more fun that way. <Tyl> ::nods:: I agree. ::she licks her lips, then makes a face as her stomach gurgles loudly:: Care to join me for a bite at the Caf? I promise, we hire excellent chefs. <Ennis> ::laughs and stands, offering her his arm:: I'd be delighted to, Headmistress. My treat, o' course. ::winks:: |
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