concoursec | (no subject)

Character(s): Rion Lyon (

derped ) and Quistis Trepe (

whiplashings )
Location: A study room inside the Library.
Rating: ~~WELL IT IS QUISTIS AND ONE OF HER STUDENTS, YOU KNOW HOW THAT WENT BEFORE...~~ Maybe PG or PG-13 for language, at most.
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed.
Summary: The tutoring's about magic and drawing out, sure, but maybe that's not all that Rion needs help with.

Rion is not like a lot of other students, who just sort of... sit in class and are there because they're supposed to be there. Rion's one of those students who genuinely WANTS to be there. He's not being tutored, after all, because he needs help, because he's worried about not passing; he's being tutored in this specifically because the classes are not going fast enough for him, because this is stuff he wants to learn NOW.

So Rion being at a session being kind of listless is a bit unusual for him. He's present, he's paying attention... sort of kind of, but there's nowhere near as much care as there has been at other lessons. It's like... well, it's like he was just another typical student, rather than the sweet, derpy kid driven to learn how to help people. He's had to ask Quistis to clarify things that he normally wouldn't have needed explained more than once, especially given his aptitude for the subject matter.

Something is up here, to say the least.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Quistis was a patient person-- she had to be, after teaching classes full of students so close to her own age that they had a hard time taking her seriously as an instructor. So when Rion asked for her to repeat her explanation as to why healing magic should only be used for emergency situations, Quistis had no problems echoing her small lecture.

"While healing para-magic does fix injuries both minor and life threatening, you shouldn't be dependent on them-- traditional medical means will always be the safest route to go. When your body takes in the effects of magic, sometimes the curative properties work too fast for the body to process, and while you may be superficially healed, there can be underlying complications later on..."

Quistis trailed off after glancing over to check if the cadet was paying attention. She caught that slightly far-away look in his eyes, almost like daydreaming-- it was an expression that she was familiar with in most of her students. Rion had always been attentive in their sessions, though; perhaps there was something wrong.

"Rion? Is something bothering you?"

Saying that Rion was normally attentive in sessions was a bit like saying that water was 'damp', in that it is technically true but an incredible understatement. Normally, Rion is not just paying attention - he hangs onto every word Quistis says (regardless of whether it's about paramagic or other things) like each word is filled with delicious candy. And this wasn't the sort of tutoring session where he was there because he had to be - Rion had specifically asked for this because he wanted to learn faster. Who insists on lessons and then ignores them?

Rion turned his head towards Quistis, almost as if jumping - had he really been that obvious? (Yes.) At her question, he shook his head slowly, but he wasn't making eye contact with her, he wasn't... well, he wasn't really convincing, especially considering how different this was from how he normally was at these tutoring sessions.

There was a small sigh as she placed her pen down on the table and folded her hands over her notebook. Quistis was highly skilled in reading body language-- not only was it a handy skill for missions to detect whether or not people were lying, but it also came in handy during her time as an instructor. So when Rion shook his head, Quistis knew very well that he was lying by he way he refused to make eye contact with her.

"Are you sure, Rion? Because if there's something that's bothering you, I want you to know that you can tell me-- I'd like to help you with any problems you're having." She couldn't help but feel like a big sister to all these younger cadets; it was a trait that would be ingrained in her forever.

He still wasn't making eye contact with her - maybe he was embarrassed about whatever was bothering him. His hand slowly reached for the pen he used to write on his whiteboard (since signing wasn't an option), and he slowly began to write on it. He felt so stupid talking about this, like it was all his fault and nobody else's, and ... really, there was a part of him that assumed Quistis would just be like 'well, what do you want me to do about it?'

... oh well. She'd asked, and she was his teacher, and, well, a hero. He wasn't sure that anyone who'd done what she had done would really understand. He still wasn't making eye contact as he finished, then moved his arms away so she could read.

I don't feel like I belong here.

When the note was passed over to her, Quistis read it silently. She could tell Rion had been a bit apprehensive in confiding in her, but Quistis was more than glad that the cadet had chosen to open up-- it would do him no good if he kept his troubles bottled up.

She looked up at the young cadet then, head tilting slightly as she focused her undivided attention on him; there was no sign of mockery or any sort of condescending attitude, as her following words were sincere.

"Why is that?"

Rion looked back at what he'd written, then started to write again, not really making eye contact with her as he wrote - it was already obvious enough that he wasn't entirely comfortable talking about this, even with somebody he respected as much as her. It's difficult, talking to someone you've heard about and really, looked up to for a while about your problems.

But he was still writing, still trying to explain just what was going on, and there was none of the normal 'pause, erase, think about it' - this was just writing what came to his mind, without any sort of filter, without trying to figure out how to phrase it delicately.

It feels like everyone else belongs here, even the offworlders. Like they already understand what they need to do and how to do it and how to talk to other people and how to belong. I don't feel like I do. It's like there are two different groups here - the people from here, and the people who are here because of the Time Compression. I'm not caught between the two groups, though. I just don't fit into either one.

His writing was a lot calmer than his body language, than his expression was - he really looked like he might just start crying, or something. It's something he'd been holding in since he got here, and the recent spate of people he knew disappearing really wasn't helping much.

Quistis took the time to read the note once he had handed it over to her. Her blues eyes followed each of the words, brow furrowing the more she read-- but the expression easily smoothed out into one that was more sympathetic when she placed the notepad down and shifted her gaze to Rion.

"I think it's just easier for the offworlders to ease into the world because there are so many of them, and they can relate to one another because of their circumstances. There seems to be a divide between those who are misplaced and the natives, though-- and perhaps it's a bit difficult for you to integrate within either groups because you are neither." She gave him a slightly encouraging smile before continuing on.

"From the looks of it, you're good friends with some of the offworlders, aren't you? You're someone who doesn't mind them, unlike some of the other native cadets who seem to have a sort of distrust towards the foreigners. But you realize that you're being a bigger person by not outcasting these people who are unfamiliar with our world. Perhaps you're not one of them, but as time passes and they realize that they've found a real friend within you, someone who won't shun them, you'll find it easier to fit in with the offworlders."

'Because you are neither'. Rion could hear that again and again in his head. He was listening to what she was saying, but at the same time, it wasn't really clicking - he had focused almost entirely on that one phrase, and the rest of it was just sort of happening in the background, not really pertinent to what was going on in his head.

He took the notepad back, and he didn't need to think about what he wanted to say, quickly (and a little roughly) pushing it back towards her, his expression obviously hurt as he let her read what he had to say.

Why am I neither? I'm from here.