Mark & Amanda, Monday afternoon

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Some weird power fluctuations hit the Snow Valley office, and Amanda finds the source.


"Oh for the love of..." Amanda leaned back from her computer, watching the screen warp and flicker. It had been doing it on and off for a while now, and Doug couldn't find anything wrong. He'd said something about having issues in the server room and bustled off looking harried, however, and she wasn't about to hassle him again. Instead, she pushed back from her desk and wandered over to Mark's reception desk. Maybe he'd know something.

It sounded like a crappy '80s fest at the front desk. For everyone's benefit, at least, Mark was not dressed up like Boy George. He hummed along loudly to "Karma Chameleon," though, bent over his desk and staring at something intently. "Come on, bitch, move!" he said to himself out loud.

Amanda winced a little at the music as she approached. "Hey, Mark," she said, looking curiously at whatever he was doing. "You having any problems with your computer today? Mine's gone all... wibbly."

Mark looked up and blinked, taking a moment to realize who was talking to him. "Oh, hi. Um, I don't know. Haven't noticed anything. Why?" A small pile of iron nails sat on his desk beneath cupped hands, and he flicked one across the room.

"What're you doing?" Amanda tilted her head slightly, looking down at his desk and the nails. "New powers thing?"

"Yeah. I don't remember much from the past couple of weeks" - Mark giggled a bit at that, suggesting that maybe he was still having memory problems - "But I do remember beating Esteban upside the head with his gun. Tryin' ta do that again, just a bit safer."

"Considering the amount of dope you've been doing, I'm not surprised you're having trouble remembering stuff." Amanda grinned a bit. "So... what? Telekinesis? That's not part of the usual conversion of light to force thing you do, is it?"

Mark stuck out his tongue at Amanda. "Naw. Um, I don't know the right term for it. Playing around with magnetic fields to move ferrous material. Like Bucket-head. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what I did. S'the only thing that makes sense. S'just not working now. Look." Mark took a deep breath and placed his hands on either side of the pile. He cleared his mind, focusing just on the synthetic music of Culture Club, pulling in the sound to mold it into recognizable forces.

Nothing. Mark sighed, then reached over to his desk lamp to smack it. "Damn thing's been going crazy all day. Bulb's probably almost busted."

"You should probably let Remy know what you're doing - he'll be thinking Lorna's dropping by or something otherwise, with someone mucking about with magnetic fields," Amanda began, then watched the lamp flicker. "Huh, that's the same as my computer. Wonder if the circuits are going or something?"

"That doesn . . ." Mark stopped midsentence, then glanced at his monitor. Hands still over the nails, he tried to visualize the magnetic fields again and weave them to lift the nails. His screen flickered, and he immediately dropped it. "Huh. I guess my powers are working. Kind of." He turned around and looked up at Amanda, trying to put on an ashamed face. "Oops?"

He got an exasperated sigh. "Maybe try practicing this somewhere else next time?" she suggested. "Before you wipe someone's hard drive?"

"Consider it a lesson in the importance of backups?" he suggested, and reached over to shut off the music. The vague perception of EM fields disappeared, leaving Mark momentarily disoriented. "You know, I wish my powers only worked on good music."

"You and me both," came the wry reply. "Tho' if you ever try out the Sex Pistols, I think you'd probably better find somewhere bomb-proof. Otherwise you might bring the roof down on you."

"Omigod, did I ever tell you about the first time I remixed Britney? I thought my mom was gonna flip."