Chapter 11: te-LE-pa-thy
Yeah, it's a dumb chapter name. Now, anyways. It'll make sense in like a couple minutes.
The peace march went good. There were TONS of people there! All sorts of great stuff.
Telepathy wasn't fun. It was hard. Not that he didn't like a challenge, but this was way too hard of a challenge. It was like… use a mental hook… to clasp onto a section of the mind… and migrate with it. He just couldn't do it.
Fortunately (and unfortunately) he was getting lots of personal attention. He was still working on the "mental hook" part after a week.
Milla noticed.
She was the sort of person who helps people for the sake of helping them.\
She was extremely stubborn.
He would learn basic telepathy over the weekend, OR ELSE.
"Okay, darling. Look at this picture."
She slid a piece of paper over the table.
"That is the image that I'm going to be concentrating on, okay, darling? You just have to glance at my mind, then concentrate on that picture. That's it, okay, darling?"
Going in easy steps like that, she taught him telepathy in two days and an afternoon. It was simple enough. His original problem was that actual telepathy had nothing to do with hooks, mental or otherwise. It was concentration. He had to just concentrate on that one thought, and that was it. The thing he learned, though, was that he had to grasp it in several different ways because trains of thought had about twenty or so cars. It was like running from one car to the next, glancing at the furnishings, and running on to the next one before that car fell off of the train. Not simple, by any means, but Milla assured him that it would get a lot easier once he was used to it.
"Okay, Sasha, try to follow my thought. It's going to go slowly."
"…"
"Well perhaps you are stupid, you don't seem to understand telepathy."
"…"
"That's impossible. Now, just think of it like fishing. Hook, hold, release."
"…"
"No, it's impossible for your girlfriend to teach you telepathy over a weekend."
A fritter would taste good right now.
"Then what was that?"
"What was what?"
"The 'a fritter would taste good right now' coming from your mind."
"That was a result of a strong psychic making a lucky guess."
When will he accept that his thoughts are impossible?
"I don't know. When will you stop saying that my notions are impossible, Professor Agent Clavd?"
"What did you say, boy?"
"I stated my reaction to your thoughts."
"That is impossible, Sasha. You can't read minds. You can't even get them after a week."
When will you understand that, if someone who knows you, and can relate the things that you want to know to the things that care about to the things you're learning, that can get you farther than weeks of things that you don't understand? Milla showed me neocubism, which is the only kind of art that I like, and she held that image. Then, she related it to her interpretation of the image. She did that a bunch of times, and I could follow along. Not everyone cares about fishing.
Well, if you can read my mind, then what am I thinking right now?
"From the tone of your question, you were incredulous as to my ability to read your thoughts."
Professor Agent Clavd then shot Sasha his nastiest glare, the glare that made people melt. Sasha remained calm and collected as always. He had seen worse. Of course, that had been in his father's mind. He'd found a psycho-portal at a thrift shop, available for just about nothing. He was good at clairvoyance; he had simply looked to see how it was used. Then he used it to get into his father's mind…
Fortunately, Clavd didn't see that thought.
"So, apparently, you can catch simple thoughts. So now the question is: can you net more complex thoughts?"
"Yes."
"I doubt it."
The day went on like that. Every time Professor Agent Clavd doubted Sasha's abilities, Sasha proved him wrong. He got the feeling that Clavd called him 'Sasha' to make him feel bad. For some immature men, comparing guys to girls, such as the term, 'you run/fight/etc. like a girl' was an insult. Sasha saw that as a mark of immaturity and liked to think that he was better than that.
"Glad to know you think that, darling."
When had Milla come up next to him?
"Right when you got out of practice. Not to speak ill of a professor, but I think that Clavd should do some of the bad missions for awhile. It might make him sweeter. Now, darling, the girls and I were thinking that I should meet your friends sometime. Wouldn't that be fun?"
"Umm… No."
"Well, why not, darling?"
"My roommates aren't exactly… social. You wouldn't like them very much."
"Well, you aren't that social either, darling, but that doesn't mean you aren't nice. What could go wrong?"
"They aren't exactly… used to talking to girls like you."
"Like me in which way?"
"Well, you're colorful, energetic, friendly…"
"Okay, darling, I get it. What are they, nerds or something?"
"Yes, but in a good way. Whenever I have problems with my experiments, or with my laptop any one of them can fix it in a matter of seconds. Plus they're quiet, which I value."
"Okay, then, maybe I wouldn't like to meet them. You need more friends, though, darling. Guy friends, who you can do guy stuff with. Like talk about cars and motorbikes and things."
"Milla, you know that my only goal at the moment is to become a Psychonaut."
"That doesn't mean you can't have a little fun along the way, darling."
They had gotten to the point where he would go up and she would go strait, so he sighed and headed towards his window.
His dormmates all laughed at him.
Yeah, I can imagine computer nerds would laugh at Sasha for loving Milla. I have to bed now and it sux because I want to write more fanfiction! Entering new words into Microsoft Word's dictionary… Done! Ok, expect a couple updates on at least one of my stories tomorrow!