Crawford (Ro) and Schuldig (Guil)
Setting: Rosenkruez, about a year before Brad's graduation, first meeting
Schuldig's chair, previously leaned back to angle against the desk behind him, came to the ground with a thump. The teacher didn't give him a glance, but his self-satisfaction was clearly visible in his smirk. But then, telekinetics were like that, all up themselves with smugness when it came to the proof of their mighty deeds. "Che," he muttered, crossing his arms and kicking the desk in front of him.
With everything else that went on here, he never could understand why they were required to take regular school classes, as well. Not like any of them would ever have any need of them. It was an especial waste for himself. The strongest telepath in recent generations, they said. Anything he needed to know he could just lift out of people's heads.
It was funny, really, how the administrators liked to pretend this was a normal school, just with students who needed special attention. Pretend that everyone's lives aren't tightly controlled, pretend that rankings aren't a cutthroat determination of power and despair, pretend that everyone isn't closely monitored to play into plans for the future.
Pretend that some of them weren't already treated as pets among those ambitious old fogies.
The clatter, more siren than bell, that announced the end of 'regular' classes and the beginning of the courses that were much more regular for them finally sounded and Schuldig, with his speed, was the first out of the room and into the hallway.
Schuldig's chair, previously leaned back to angle against the desk behind him, came to the ground with a thump. The teacher didn't give him a glance, but his self-satisfaction was clearly visible in his smirk. But then, telekinetics were like that, all up themselves with smugness when it came to the proof of their mighty deeds. "Che," he muttered, crossing his arms and kicking the desk in front of him.
With everything else that went on here, he never could understand why they were required to take regular school classes, as well. Not like any of them would ever have any need of them. It was an especial waste for himself. The strongest telepath in recent generations, they said. Anything he needed to know he could just lift out of people's heads.
It was funny, really, how the administrators liked to pretend this was a normal school, just with students who needed special attention. Pretend that everyone's lives aren't tightly controlled, pretend that rankings aren't a cutthroat determination of power and despair, pretend that everyone isn't closely monitored to play into plans for the future.
Pretend that some of them weren't already treated as pets among those ambitious old fogies.
The clatter, more siren than bell, that announced the end of 'regular' classes and the beginning of the courses that were much more regular for them finally sounded and Schuldig, with his speed, was the first out of the room and into the hallway.