Ichigo was only too eager to leave the cafeteria and its fresh memories behind when the softened chime of the intercome rang clear. What had begun as another ordinary meal, a rather agreeable one despite the lack of the proper utensils, quickly became somewhat unnerving. His conversation with...what was his name again?...took so many sharp turns,
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The music room had been out right from the start; Schuldig hadn't listened to music (at least by choice) for years and he didn't need it now. The last thing a telepath needed was more noise bouncing around in his head.
He could feel a headache coming on from his lunchtime session with Yohji; granted, he'd needed to pry, needed to see the things Yohji had already experienced that were still in his own future, but that didn't mean it didn't bring on pain. Best to stick to the more passive type of telepathy for a little while in hopes the ache would recede; listening to surface thoughts didn't require any effort whatsoever.
It was just so hard to restrain himself. It would have been difficult for anyone. When hearing fragments of thoughts, the natural inclination was to follow them to see what they connected to, to find their context, which required pursuing the thoughts into the mind that had spawned them. And from there, that could easily lead you deeper and deeper in search of the beginning of the line of the trains of thought, curiosity dragging one into the depths until there was no possibility of escape.
The reason telepaths were so few and far between wasn't because the gift itself was rare. But most who had it wound up as vegetables, having lost all sense of self to be left as empty shells that breathed and did very little else, or madmen, who could no longer call their mind their own; it took an exceptional mind to stay on top of what that mind could accomplish.
In any case, this room was almost disgustingly peaceful. Two men meditating and two men and a teenager circling the drain of sleep. He briefly toyed with the idea of inserting highly inappropriate and/or discordant thoughts into the meditations of the master and student - possibly even trying to sow the seeds of turning them against each other, in order to cultivate them later; that was the sort of wickedness he excelled at - but reluctantly decided against that. He wanted his headache to go away, not intensify.
Besides, there was something in the minds of the two men (Jedi, his mind supplied, a word which meant nothing to him out of context but which he forced himself not to retrieve context for) that suggested that he might find himself with serious mental opposition if he tried anything. There was an air of training about them - if not training in telepathy, then training in less specific areas of the mind, but it would still make for far more formidable mental resistance than most people could present him, which would equate to an even more intense headache.
Schuldig growled in quiet annoyance to himself and flung himself into a chair rather harder than necessary. Maybe someone more interesting would show up; it was his only hope.
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He wasn't betting on it, though.
He saw a few familiar faces in the room. Ed was there, looking like he had the same idea of taking a nap. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as well, but they looked... well, busy, oddly enough.
Hughes did notice that guy he'd been talking to at one of the meals, before that weird woman had interupted them. He figured it wouldn't hurt to head over and see if they could actually manage a conversation this time. He figured the red head had been around long enough not to need anything explained.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the chair next to the man.
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He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching at his head, fingers clenched tight in his hair. When he looked up, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, smiling like always. He opened his mouth to say something, but then someone tapped him on the shoulder, distracting him and when he looked back she was gone. He wanted to scream or cry or... or... something! Anything.
The nurse tapped his shoulder again, saying concerned sounding things that Yohji didn't really hear, just nodded dumbly and let her guide him into the Sun Room. Lots of noise didn't sound too appealing right now, he'd probably end up trying to kill someone by mistake. He'd lost his taste for people recently. And maybe he could have a conversation with her in the quiet.
Schuldig happened first. Yohji noticed him straight away; old instinct resurfacing. He had to admit grudgingly that Schuldig had a point. He neeed allies in this place and Schuldig knew what he was. Besides, hadn't he been ready to giveb himself over to Esstet less than a week ago? Devil you know and at least he wouldn't have to watch his back so closely. Did he really care what happened to his mind anymore? It wasn't as though it was really his anyway.
He approached the telepath, intending to agree to at least not try to kill him at every opportunity. "Schuldig," he said and then stopped when he realised someone else was already there. He blinked in confusion. Had he been so out of it that he hadn't noticed?
He shook his head and smiled apologetically at the other man. "Sorry, I'll come back later."
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"You can stay, Kudoh," Schuldig remarked, gaze flickering from one man to the other. "Although the fact that you came here because you think you need to tell me what your intentions are is rather quaint." He grinned at Hughes. "I believe we were interrupted the other day. Maes Hughes, wasn't it?"
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"Yeah, Maes Hughes... if you guys have something you need to talk about, I can leave you to it." He didn't want to get in the way or keep people from anything important. He knew how hard it was to get the people you needed to alone to talk.
"I don't want to impose or anything."
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He smiled at the other man and shook his head. "It's fine, really. Besides, he" he nodded towards Schuldig, "probably knows exactly what I'd say anyway. It's nice to meet new people though," he added, turning on a little of the charm.
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"I hope you don't mind me asking," he said, leaning forward with a curious expression. "What are these 'gifts' of yours I keep hearing about?"
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Still, he ran a hand through his hair self-conciously. Did it really look that bad?
"It's fine," he said, forcing a smile as he turned to Hughes. "I'm the one who barged in anyway. I should be asking that."
He really wanted to blurt out everything he knew about Schuldig to this other man, give him at least some warning. But if he'd essentially agree to work with Schuldig, it probably wouldn't be the best idea.
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The Brigadier General tensed immediately. This man, this stranger was seeing inside his head? His own private thoughts? He couldn't imagine a more thorough and complete violation of a human being! To pry into someone like that...
"Get out of my head," he said, sternly, coldly.
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And to think he'd wanted quiet time to talk to her.
He looked over at Hughes, sympathy written across his face. "I said that too."
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"You can't... choose just not to pay attention? Like tuning out a conversation?" He glanced over at Yohji, wondering how well the two knew each other. "I mean... the only private thing a person's got is what's in his head."
Sure, he felt badly for the guy, bombarded with thoughts. But those were his thoughts!
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He thought he had a headache coming on.
He shrugged helplessly at Hughes. "I don't know a thing about what he can do except that it's damn annoying when you're trying to" kill him "talk with him."
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"And yes, I do," he remarked as an aside to Yohji, repling to his thoughts rather than his words. "Bitter much?"
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