Post by Ai on Aug 18, 2008 4:16:32 GMT
Down underneath the ground, there lies one room that completely inhibits any telepathic or empathetic powers. This is the furthest away of the detention rooms in the school; one can get here by walking through the long corridors and to the end of the hall. A riddle password is required to get into the room; it is shown on a computer screen and the person wanting entrance must answer it correctly and the door will unlock.
In most truth, it is not a detention room at all, but rather a place where telepaths and empaths can come, relax and act as though they are normal people without their powers for once in their lives. They do not have to maintain those tight mental shields that many discipline themselves to have in order to stay sane.
This room is furnished with a few tables and thin carpet on the ground. Chairs litter themselves around the perimeter of the room and there are a few chalkboards fastened to the wall at the front of the old classroom. There are no windows and the lighting is dimmed; half the lightbulbs are burned out, but it seems to bother the inhabitants and frequentors of this room little or not at all.
Sharpe sat in one of the swivel chairs as he set up the chess set, white for his guest, black for him. Although he had learned to play both while in high school, he had grown far more accostumed to playing as black and it was now more of a comfort move. His dark eyes glanced around the room; there were a small number of students studying. Many of these students were likely either empathetic or telepathic, as they were the only ones who generally cared about the existence of this room.
A hand waved briefly and his thought sent the last two pieces into their places: the kings. The white king on the black square and the black king on the white square. His own black king was still in the pocket of his lab coat. Oddly enough, Sharpe was thankful that there was a room somewhere on the earth that inhibited some of his powers yet not all of them. As the former high school interscholastic chess champion waited for the German professor to arrive, a smirk played onto his face.
The board was set and the pieces were ready to move.
In most truth, it is not a detention room at all, but rather a place where telepaths and empaths can come, relax and act as though they are normal people without their powers for once in their lives. They do not have to maintain those tight mental shields that many discipline themselves to have in order to stay sane.
This room is furnished with a few tables and thin carpet on the ground. Chairs litter themselves around the perimeter of the room and there are a few chalkboards fastened to the wall at the front of the old classroom. There are no windows and the lighting is dimmed; half the lightbulbs are burned out, but it seems to bother the inhabitants and frequentors of this room little or not at all.
Sharpe sat in one of the swivel chairs as he set up the chess set, white for his guest, black for him. Although he had learned to play both while in high school, he had grown far more accostumed to playing as black and it was now more of a comfort move. His dark eyes glanced around the room; there were a small number of students studying. Many of these students were likely either empathetic or telepathic, as they were the only ones who generally cared about the existence of this room.
A hand waved briefly and his thought sent the last two pieces into their places: the kings. The white king on the black square and the black king on the white square. His own black king was still in the pocket of his lab coat. Oddly enough, Sharpe was thankful that there was a room somewhere on the earth that inhibited some of his powers yet not all of them. As the former high school interscholastic chess champion waited for the German professor to arrive, a smirk played onto his face.
The board was set and the pieces were ready to move.
