bakerstreet | Apprentice(shipping)

Apprentice(shipping)

APPRENTICE-SHIPPING

From the moment we begin our lives, we're learning. It's imperative to surviving, to growing - don't walk in the shadows, it's dangerous, don't touch the fire, you'll be hurt. These days, most continue to hone this natural instinct with formal schooling, but that's certainly not the end all, be all of knowledge. If you go to school or not, if you have the opportunity or otherwise, you won't stop sharpening your mind after those formative years. That's just not the way our incredible brains work.

You, specifically, have actually decided to something equally incredible: you want to really dedicate yourself to learning a skill, and what better way than an apprenticeship? Formal or informal, you're under someone's tutelage, absorbing everything they can teach, growing closer to them in the process...

...unfortunately, though, you've gained a little something extra with that bite from the fruit of knowledge. You've fallen for your mentor.

Do you realize this pitfall immediately, or will you have to learn the hard way?

Comment with your character, preferences, what role you'd like them to fill, and any information you'd like to include.
Like it says up there, the situation or setup can be strict or loose, and there may or may not be an age difference involved. Be specific in your preferences.
Thread.

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[ w e l p. she'd likely be the apprentice - either Dark or Light - but I would love to play out some power-dynamics scenarios where she attempts to reverse the roles somehow. m/f for ships. ]

(totally the mentor here)

[More than likely the apprentice be it for the Dark or Light. Or she could be the Master if she's trying to teach someone how to survive on Jakku.

OTA for gen, M/F for ships.]

[Total apprentice here, eager to please. Any profession.]

[Likely the apprentice. Someone tell him it's not okay to use his telekinetic powers to crush things. I'm open to m/m or m/f]

[ Kay so Carrie is...not experienced in this telekinesis business at all, but maybe she could at least be somewhat of a mentor and maybe moral compass -

because we all know that would work out well.

At least she wouldn't be for crushing things right off the bat? IDK I mostly think these two should thread, having such similar narratives and all. ]

[Oh my god hell yes they should thread.

Also I know I said apprentice but if it's easier for you I am totally okay with switching it around for these two. Though she could still try to be his moral compass while he's trying to help her get the hang of the whole telekinesis thing.]

[ That's doable. Besides, they can both kind of teach each other. Any bets on how much worse this will end up for everyone involved?

I can try to whip something up if that's to your liking. ]

[Yeah everyone around them will proooobably suffer. The world is not ready for these two haha.

And that would be great thanks \o]

[ It's the little things, not just some words in a book she knows backwards and forwards, that let Carrie believe in miracles.

How likely, after all, would it be that she, Carrie White, mousy little Carrie, ended up with a power that seemed both frightening and full of endless possibility? Without destiny, could she have found just the right book - not old, but new and scientific, which used to be such a bad word - that could put a name to the power? Telekinetic. It's an echo, right to her bones, and it feels so right. And from that little nugget of knowledge, with the help of a miracle -

She'd found a boy.

A boy with powers like her, who'd said he'd help. Oh see, Mama? People weren't all bad, she wanted to say all the time now, but Mama could never know. It was a small act of grace in itself that she'd managed to come up with an excuse that would fool Mama, letting Carrie stay later at school every few days. Tutoring, because she was struggling in math. Math was a strong, wholesome subject. Mama would approve, no matter how the lie burned a whole in Carrie's stomach. Yet it was a harmless, tiny lie, wasn't it? A pretty lie, for a boy who knew so much, was so much like her, except with a pretty face, a boy...a boy who stirred something in her. She knew how to kept that quite, though, or maybe they both did. There were more important things to do.

Prom was in a few weeks. That wasn't important, really, but the tidbit stuck in the back of her mind.

Carrie kept her eyes fixed on a scrap of fabric across the junk heap while she waited for him. The junkyard was dangerous, sharp objects always ready to scrape at her clothes and skin, a beaten-up junker here or there threatening to topple over. The fabric was red, silky. Maybe it had been a curtain in someone's house, once. Or a dress.

Slowly, an invisible force began to rend the fabric in two, amateurishly but with direction. ]

Edited 2016-02-10 01:47 (UTC)

[On the other hand, lying came a lot easier to Andrew. For the most part his father didn't care what he was doing so long as he looked miserable doing it. But the second he seemed just a touch too happy for his liking it was "where are you going?" this and "when are you coming back?" that. It was hard for Andrew not to be happy, which is ridiculous to him when he thinks about it. But he has been so miserable for most of his life when he gets something good he clings to it. Sure, hanging out with Matt and Steve was a blast now that they had powers, but Matt still grew distant at times and Steve was a popular guy. He had a separate life full of social obligations Andrew could never begin to imagine. Friends, parties, even just hanging out at the local park. Still, Andrew always told Richard he was with them.

Carrie was a girl, which meant she was terrifying. He never knew what to say to girls and when he did manage something he felt stupid. But the fact that they shared this powerful and marvelous thing drew him to her in a way. It made talking to her seem easier. He could forget about the worry that he'll say the wrong thing and be laughed at, because he felt like he could say the wrong thing and she wouldn't judge him. Maybe he's wrong, but it was something he felt. And honestly, Steve and Matt could never understand what it was like to be someone like Andrew. They couldn't. So he always felt a bit of loneliness that never quite went away.

He flew to the junkyard as he always did, carelessly spinning around high in the sky as he held his camera. The shot would be nauseating to most people but it didn't matter as it was something for his eyes. Though he sometimes thought about sharing some of his footage with Carrie he always reminded himself that it would be stupid.

As he drew closer he slowed his speed and began his descent. Once he caught sight of her her had to force back that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach - nerves he guessed - before landing a few feet away, off to the side but not too much out of sight so he wouldn't startle her or interrupt what she was doing.

He watched her through the view finder of his camera for a moment before directing it to the tearing fabric.]

How's the control coming along?

[ There were difference between her and Andrew, so mirror images they weren't. He had friends, she knew, no matter how few. She had none. Well, one. She hoped she could call this a friendship. It felt like one, though there was nothing to compare the happy, light feeling to. The opposite of how she felt around the girls in her gym class? Andew never glared like they did, and he never laughed at her questions, no matter how silly they were. Which was a feat, as she felt like she had a lot of silly questions. At first, it'd been hard just to talk to him. He was a boy for one (boys were wicked, Mama had hissed, from the very first time Carrie had ever mentioned them) and he was nice to her, on top of that. Any moment, she felt as if this could all be revealed as a cruel prank.

Old habits died hard, even harder when you've known nothing else. Just like how when she was approached, she jerked like a small animal being approached by a hunter. Whatever control she'd exerted over the fabric, however, was shot, the cloth falling into a little heap almost torn clean. Her heart sank. ]

N-not too good.

[ She was doing better in other areas, though. She was talking to him much more than when they'd first met and he'd agreed to teach her a few things. ]

I'm not having any luck getting things...getting things to float. [ She glanced back at him, then away once more as she shrugged her shoulders in her oversized sweater. ] Not like you can. And I can't practice at home.

[ She'd never told him about what "home" meant, though if he'd listened any at school, he'd know, so it was understood. Creepy Carrie, with her Scary Mother and their dark, lonely house. Not a place to learn anything except for Bible verses.

At this rate, she'd not be able to fly like him (with him) as soon as she'd hoped. ]

...Sorry.

[Exhibit A of 'Andrew does something stupid'. The truth is he could never laugh at any of her questions, as odd as they seemed to even him, because he's sure he has said many things that made no sense in his effort to not sound like some kind of loser. She had to have some kind of patience. Regardless of the fact that he could actually become comfortable enough to form complete sentences when talking to her he still tried to keep himself grounded in reality; you could still scare her off.]

Oh, uh...yeah, it takes a while. But I think you're getting better? It's kind of a thing you have to practice constantly but... [He heard some things, of course. He wasn't sure how much was true and what was exaggeration, but he would be quite oblivious - even for a teenage boy - not to recognize a sign or two considering his home life.] I mean I get it. The only reason I can practice at home is my dad is always busy.

[Fortunately for Andrew, rumors about his father didn't go beyond 'he used to be a fire fighter until he got hurt'. His father barely had a presence in his life despite always being there to remind him it was shit. The only people who really knew of his situation were Matt and Steve. It's not something he'd want to burden her with. It helps that he would rather not talk about Richard at all. A few people knew his mother was sick - he'd take her out by the docks when she was well enough - but the rumors were always centered around Andrew. The weird kid with the camera.]

Just...okay, this might sound stupid but...pick something out and try to imagine it weighs nothing. Like a feather, you know? And imagine you're picking it up with your hands...only you're not.

[ The sad truth was, of course, that Carrie's often nonsensical questions weren't the typical teenage quips or non sequiturs. She didn't understand a lot of things, especially regarding her powers, pseudo-science as it was. After all, science class were off-limits for her thanks to a few strongly worded notes from home, meaning her worldview was quite small. Piling onto that some kind of...ability? Hand over the matches and gasoline, because an explosion was waiting to happen.

Carrie didn't see the signs, though. How could she? To her, this was a taste of what she'd never had: power. An ability to do anything above the standard, but for now, kept secret. That was exciting beyond just spending time with someone who she wasn't afraid of. Possibly, if she could have one small dream in her, someone who liked her, even.

Still, what Andrew said was not too off the mark, for after a beat of consideration, she nodded, turning her attention back to the piece of cloth she'd been working on. ]

I'll try to do that.

[ All right. She could do this. She could do this. Slowly, pick it up. Like she was cleaning up scraps. In her mind, she could see how easy it would be to grab. Nothing, she could do that as if it were nothing -

Her eyes fluttered shut. A few items around the target shift. ]

[Andrew nodded his head and remained quiet for the moment, filming the general area where she seems to be concentrating. With her lack of ability to practice as often as he and the others do he's not sure how far she can go and in what amount of time. Honestly, this is sort of new for him to. It wasn't long ago he was just weird loser Andrew sitting in the back of class trying as hard as he could to not be seen. Now he's weird loser Andrew with a power that has potential to change his life - more than it already has. And now he's teaching someone else how to use it. He wants to be able to help her, which is an odd feeling for him as of late. Thoughts swirled around in his head, telling him to only look after himself. Himself and his mother. Because the world and people in it would always disappoint him.

But the nagging thoughts that plague his mind constantly are put on hold for a moment as he spots the shifting objects. When he speaks he keeps his voice on the low side to not break her concentration, almost a whisper:]

Reach out with your hand to grab it...but don't.

[Using his hands has always helped him, especially in the beginning. But she may be different.]

[ With a hard swallow, she nodded once again before reaching out with one, then the other, of her hands. Thin fingers splayed and grabbed at air, all the while her expression beginning to set deeper in concentration. It was almost as if she could feel the soft, cool satin with her mind, bring it up, dislodge it from the rubble.

With her eyes closed, she couldn't tell, but she was levitating the fabric, and a few other pieces of garbage besides. Not perfect; still, the noise she let out, that barely audible squeak, could probably be considered pleased-sounding. ]

Andrew!

[ Look at her, please, look at her while she was doing something right! She wasn't sure that anyone else would look on to what she was doing with amazement (they should, and for once, she felt a rush of being amazing go through her), but she knew he would understand.

Ignore the fact that the other garbage was starting to vibrate, including some of the other items she's levitating: an old can, a thin rod of rusty metal. ]

[Andrew felt like he was concentrating as much as she was now. His eyes bored holes into the fabric and in a rare moment he wasn't looking at something through the view finder of his camera. Seeing the fabric float like that was...well it was as if it was his first time doing it.

His lips pulled back into a wide grin as he turned the camera on to her now after getting a good shot of the levitating objects.]

Oh my god! [He glances over at the metal items. It was hard to focus on just one thing when you were starting, he had learned. It was almost as if it was a field to control, lifting up things around your target. It took practice to be precise so he wasn't going to nitpick now.

In fact the excitement he feels for her is palpable.] You're doing great, Carrie. Just hold it for a few seconds longer, okay? You can do it.

[ She can do it. He said that he thinks she can do it. That was everything to her, enough to make her not wince at "the Lord's name taken in vain," despite Mama's harsh conditioning. A sense of happiness, like she'd never felt, surged from head to toe. That camera he always carried, which she still didn't completely feel comfortable but trusted because it was almost a part of him, it felt like a second pair of watchful, hopeful eyes. ]

Almost -!

[ The fabric tugged through the air, a ghost in red. The rusted metal rod fell to the ground.

The glass in a nearby car window cracked. Its door dented by itself. Carrie gasped. ]

No, it's too much...stop...

[ The words were directed at herself, an almost well-rehearsed chastising. Her eyes darted around, large and frightened like a wild animal's. She had to pul back. Focus just on the fabric. ]

[Andrew isn't concerned about the cracking window or the debris moving along with the cloth. But he is a little worried about her reaction to what was happening. She always seemed more on the anxious side than himself, and since the powers were so knew to her he could understand. But at the same time, to him, it was just part of learning.]

It's okay, Carrie. Just...just relax.

[He lets his camera go and float off to the side, still filming the scene but out of his hands in case he needed to do something. His hands raise in a placating gesture but he doesn't do anything beyond that.]

Forget about the other stuff. There's only the cloth.

ooc: Intelligent, mouthy, ambitious, driven apprentice.

[Most likely the apprentice, either dark or light!]

( Mentor. Abrasive mentor who probably never wanted an apprentice but was forced into it out of circumstance. )

[Probably the mentor in the situation.]

[She's, like, totes BFFs with Darth Vader, omg.]

[Squee! Fun fact: I just started watching Clone Wars a few days ago. Two things: do you want Ahsoka to go forward in time or Kylo to come back? And do you want me to start or do you?]

[That's awesome - I hope you enjoy all the fun Anakin & Obi Wan snark! Ahsoka can come forward. If you have something in mind, please go for it. If not, let me know, and I can begin.]

[ Mentor. OTA. ]

(Mentor that's probably not the best, or apprentice that's a little shit.)

[Apprentice most likely, unless we're doing an older AU.]

[Surprisingly could be either but probably apprentice.]

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Apprentice(shipping)

rey | the force awakens

Harrison Wells (Earth 2 edition) | The Flash

Rey || Star Wars: The Force Awakens ||

Brice | OC | m/m

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sorry for the lateness!

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