James Dunbar, HP 5/5
Wes Jordan said:
“A valid question, Cloud. No, you are not being trained for some specific event, nor will attending this school jeopardize your chances at a normal life. But, our motives are not entirely ‘altruistic’. Too many have turned to a life of crime because they had powers, but no mentor to teach them how to use their powers properly. We hope that the training we provide here will guide our students to use their powers for good, rather than evil. Of course, the choice is ultimately yours.”
James's hands clenched as Wes grinned at him
'Huh?! He...it...he knew what I was thinking. And he's letting me know it. He's a goddamn telepath!' James's expression became one of pure rage, and the glare he shot at Wes looked like he wanted him dead.
'Damn you, stay out of my brain! You hear me?! I've had enough people poking around in there, trying to make me...no, dammit! Don't think about that! Focus! Sweeping kick to left knee. Open palm strike to solar plexus. Don't think about it. Screen your thoughts. Spin kick...' James tore his gaze away from Wes and stared at the floor, breathing heavily. His hands were tightly clenched, nails cutting into his palms.
'Stay in control, James. Focus on the pain. Let your thoughts drift...' James was so intent on his own internal struggle that he almost missed John's words, but some part of him registered them.
John Birkley said:
"Yeah, teamwork is a great idea. I spent some time in the Army Reserves and it really works well. And even though you get used to training with certain people, once you have the training you end up working real well with others that have gone through the same training. All sounds pretty good to me!"
Without meaning to, James let out a derisive snort at John's words, his face twisting in anger and bitterness. Utterly off-balance from the earlier events, and already agitated from his lack of sleep the night before, James's self control totally deserts him.
"Listen to yourself! Are you even thinking about what you're saying?! There's a reason that you did this training in the Army Reserves; because the situation that sort of training is most useful in is combat! Have you ever thought about the possible uses for a team of metahumans? The uses they can be put to? Oh, sure, nobody uses terms like private army, but that's what it ends up as. Some people might try to dress it up, pretend it's for a 'worthy cause' or a 'noble goal'; go out and be heroes, whatever. But all they're doing is killing two birds with one stone; strengthening their position, and eliminating possible competition. See, with me, it's different. I don't care. So long as you people.." - James wheels indicating Siren and Wes -
"..keep your promises, I don't care what you want me for - what you want me to fight, who you want me to kill. But it makes me sick to see people like you.." - James gestures at John -
"...wide eyed, pathetically naive, just walking into this and not having any idea of what lies behind it!"
Pouring out his vitriol and paranoia, James is ranting by the end of his impromptu speech. Breathing heavily, he strides towards the door. As he passes him, he jabs a finger at Wes, his eyes wild and his face changed by a deep and personal anger. He speaks quietly, but with great venom.
"And you...." 'You stay the hell out of my head, or I swear I'll kill you.' Seemingly overwhelmed by anger and disgust, James leaves his sentence unfinished, and heads to the door, intent on going somewhere...anywhere..away from the room, from the teachers, from the rest of his 'family group.' Somewhere secluded, somewhere quiet..somewhere with breakable objects nobody's going to miss.
