Nyssa:

Del went pale when he looked at her painting, but his expression didn’t change apart from a little strain around his eyes. Nyssa had yet to see anything ruffle the perpetually composed boy. She humiliated him, avoided him almost effortlessly and teased him mercilessly and still, he remained unshaken. Most people tired of her much more easily than this. It was one of the reasons she moved around so much.

“Come with me,” he said, rolling up her painting, turning on his heel and taking off across the street. Nyssa hurried to keep up with him, needing to take three steps for every one of his long strides. The hurried through endless halls of concrete and whitewash.

“Nice place you have here, gimpy,” Nyssa said between harsh breaths. She really needed to work out more. Del ignored her. She had no idea how Del moved so quickly with his limp.

Finally, they reached a thick wooden door with a golden plaque that read Riordan Murray, Compound Director.

Del knocked on the door and waited a polite amount of time before entering.

“Director, I have an important matter to discuss with you,” Del said. Riordan didn’t look up from his papers. He only waved Del away impatiently.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” Riordan said, dismissing him. “I’m busy.”

Del stepped out of the doorway to reveal Nyssa, who had been waiting patiently, shielded by Del’s tall frame.

“What’s up, doc?” She flashed him a grin. “I hear that I’ve been wreaking havoc on your knickers.” She made a twisting motion with her hands. Riordan stared at the girl for a long moment. He leaned towards the intercom on his desk, flicking it on without breaking eye contact.

“Please cancel all my meetings for this afternoon, Gretchen. Something has come up.”

Nyssa grinned at him again and let herself in. She slung herself sideways over one of the seats by his desk, hanging her knees over one of the armrests and using the opportunity to inspect her chipping nail polish.

“So you finally caught up with her, Del?” Riordan said, adding the files he was holding to a neat pile.

“Yes, that is what happened,” Nyssa said quickly before Del could answer. “Del caught me.” Del shot her an unimpressed look.

“She showed up at our doorstep,” he admitted. Nyssa rolled her eyes. It didn’t surprise her that Del refused to take any undeserved credit, even when it was thrust upon him. He was too much of a goody two shoes with some serious self-esteem issues.

“Let me see if I have this right,” Riordan steepled his fingers. “You duck one of my most capable new operatives for months, drug another and humiliate this entire compound, and now you are just giving up?”

“Uh,” Nyssa thought for a moment, “yeah. That sounds about right.”

“Why?”

Nyssa swung around in her chair so she sat upright and Del offered the Director the rolled up painting he still clutched. Riordan wordlessly unraveled it and lay it on his desk, over all the paperwork. He studied it for a moment.

“What is this supposed to mean?” he asked, with an unimpressed sigh.

“This is what is going to happen to the compound and the people in it sometime in the near future,” Nyssa said, serious for the first time since she arrived. Riordan rose an eyebrow.

“I saw your reports,” he said to Del, “but I had no idea you actually put any stock in this fairy tale. Foresight is simply impossible.” Riordan spoke with false patience as if he were speaking to a child. Del shrugged.

“It is the best explanation I have. How else was she able to see us coming? It would also answer a lot of the questions about her time at the Goblin Markets and that incident with the ghoul.”

“It’s ridiculous!” Riordan exploded, thumping his finger down in the middle of the artwork. Nyssa frowned at him.

“How did I know what you look like then?” she asked, evenly.

“What?” said Riordan, now calm.

“How did I know what you look like?” Nyssa repeated. She pointed in a corner of her drawing where the unmistakable face of Riordan screaming in pain was etched in red paint. “You don't exactly have a Myspace page that I can stalk. Oh! And there’s Del.” She pointed to the middle of the flames engulfing most of the painting. Del tall figure was standing stoically among the carnage, face twisted in agony. “I assume you recognise the rest of these people?”

Del stepped forward to examine the faces more carefully. Myra was there, and Vaughn and half a dozen other people that Nyssa could never have met.

“Is this the compound?” Del asked, running his fingers over the building being torn apart in the background of the painting.

“No,” Nyssa said in a small voice. “Buildings often represent the self. That’s…” she took a deep breath, “that’s me.”

There was silence in the room for a few moments as the three of them stared at the painting.

“I’m not sure if my destruction is brought about because I get involved in your mess or if it will happen even if I steer clear of the Caul. Either way, I thought I may as well try to help. You are running into this thing, whatever it is, blind without me.”

“Nyssa,” Riordan said, “I am not quite sure what you hope to achieve coming here.”

“What did you hope to achieve by capturing me, forcing me to come to the compound and ripping me away from my friends and family?” Nyssa countered. Del pulled a face.

“That is not what we were trying to do, Nys,” Del said patiently. Nyssa started a little at the nickname but didn’t protest. “We want to teach you and help you control your abilities. They can be dangerous, especially for someone as powerful as you.”

“We have yet to determine how powerful the girl is, Del,” Riordan said. Nyssa ignored that comment and ignored the fact that he was speaking about her, not to her.

“Let’s do that then,” she said. “Train me or whatever. Then I can jump in at the right moment and save all your butts. Then you can try and tell me how it’s ‘impossible’ to see the future.”

Riordan barely suppressed to urge to roll his eyes.

“There are some things to discuss before you begin your training. Del, you may wait outside,” Riordan said. Del nodded, hiding his reluctance, and did what he was told.

“Nyssa, I think that we should try and track down your father,” Riordan’s voice was coolly impassive. That was not what Nyssa was expecting him to ask. “If he is still alive and living in one of the compounds, we should be able to find him.”

“My father is human,” Nyssa insisted. Riordan quirked an eyebrow.

“That is difficult to believe,” he said. “How would you explain your abilities?” Nyssa shrugged.

“Some other ancestor.” Her mum never mentioned it in so many words, but she had always just assumed that her psychic abilities came from further back in her ancestry. When Nyssa had asked her mother or grandmother about her father, all they said was that he was a human who left before Nyssa had even been born.

“I’m sorry, Nyssa, but that sort of thing just doesn't happen.” Riordan was adamant. “Caul abilities don’t just appear generations later.” Nyssa narrowed her eyes, propping up her elbow on her chair’s armrest.

“There is a witch in New Jersey that can read auras,” she said, her voice even. “A pooka in London has a mostly human line walker working for him. I once met a hunter who claimed he could sense where an animal had been just by touching the dirt or tree it had brushed up against. Just because you are ignorant of it, doesn't mean it doesn't happen.”

The set of Riordan’s mouth suggested that he wasn’t convinced.

“I think we should explore the possibility of your father being Caul,” he said with false patience. “It may be possible to track him down.” Nyssa clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that they drew blood.

“What are you going to do?” she sneered. “Send out a mass email to every Caul asking, ‘hey, what were you up to twenty years ago? Did you happen to screw the bastard daughter of a genie and a witch and then abandon her? Surprise! You have a kid.’” Riordan flinched at her frosty tone.

“That’s hardly fair.” She cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.

“I think you’ve misunderstood me, Sir,” she stressed the last word derisively. “I haven't come here looking for a family. My family left me. I won't have anything to do with a father that left me on my own to bury any family I once had.

“Believe me, I am doing just fine on my own. There is only one reason why I'm here,” she slammed her open hand down on her painting, “and that’s to stop you getting blown to all hell.”

Riordan folded his hands calmly in his lap, not at all perturbed by her outburst.

“Very well,” he said as if he was talking to a child who didn’t know any better. “I think, perhaps it is time to conclude this interview.” He stood and walked to the door, opening it to admit Del. Nyssa took a deep breath through her nose and shot Del a strained half smile.

“Del, please escort Nyssa to the training rooms. She needs to be tested.”

My last post was quite short so I thought that I would do an extra one this week.

This was one of the earliest things I wrote and is a really defining scene for Nyssa in terms of her past and her family. At first, I wanted Nyssa to avoid talking about her feelings, but then I realised that Nyssa wouldn't ignore her feelings of abandonment, she would get angry. The anger and the 'I can do it by myself' attitude seemed more in tune with Nyssa's character and allows for a more interesting character arc later on in the series. Let me know what you think.