Jane, Monet, Amanda - Tuesday Afternoon

[x-cloudy.livejournal.com]

Jane, Amanda, and Monet go looking for answers, but run into some problems along the way.



Jane's knuckles where white as she clutched the car door. "This is it?

Amanda nodded, killing the engine. "According to the directions, yeah." She sounded a little doubtful herself - it didn't seem like the sort of place you'd imagine someone like Jane having any kind of connection to. Glancing over at Jane, she asked: "You sure you want to do this? I can go in for you, ask some questions?

"I..." Jane shook her head and looked nervously at the steel and glass tower. Even the cheerful little leaf design that curled over the Nascor name didn't make it any less intimidating. It was cold and impersonal and unfamiliar. "No, I have to do this. I mean, this is what I've always wanted, right?"

"You don't sound that sure about that, hon. This place is kind of erm. Well, it doesn't look that welcoming, does it? I mean, honestly. Whoever it was designed this place should be shot." Monet reached for her handbag and stepped out of the car.

Jane giggled nervously, and twitched out of her seat belt. Unwelcoming was an understatement. Unwelcoming, unfamiliar, uncomfortable, unfriendly...it was a world of Un and Monet was right, she wasn't sure she wanted to go inside. But if there was even the least chance that she could get some answers about herself, she couldn't not go. Straightening her shoulders with a little shake, Jane tilted her chin and opened the car door. "Okay, let's go."

---

"What do you mean there's no-one I can talk to?" Jane stared dumbfounded at the security guard. The trio had been stopped shortly after they'd entered the building.

"What I mean is, Miss, that you don't have an appointment with anyone. I can't let you into the building if you don't have an appointment." The guard at the security desk looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Look, we don't mean to be a nuisance, but we've come a long way. Isn't there someone we can speak to any way? It won't take long." Amanda's tone had changed from her usual brash personality to someone calm and persuasive. Remy's lessons again - you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. "We're happy to wait."

The security guard -- Bob, according to his name tag, -- shook his head. "I''m sorry," he repeated running a hand through his grey-streaked hair, "but this is a secure facility. Unless you have an appointment, I can't help you. It's policy."

Jane's heart sank, so disappointed it hurt. "But I don't know who to call. I mean, there's not a lot of information available. You can't call anybody?"

"Do you even know what department you're looking for?" Bob asked wearily.

Monet tugged her shirt down a little and smiled at the guard, leaning forward over the desk. "How about HR? Can we speak to someone from there? They might be able to help us. You know, if you can't." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. This was vaguely sickening. There was a distinct lack of reaction. Maybe Bob was gay? "Oh, for fuck's sake, just let us in."

Across the lobby, a camouflaged door opened out of the paneled wall. Another guard stepped through, heading for the desk with a determined set to his shoulders. Jane groaned inwardly. Oh no. Pinning a smile on her face, she turned to the new guard. "Hi! Maybe you can help us?"

Whatever help she'd hoped to get from the young man faded as Jane watched the blood drain from the guard's face, throwing his shock of red hair into stark relief against his pale skin. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. The guard abruptly turned on his heel and began to hurriedly disappear into the depths of the building, throwing nervous looks at her over his shoulder.

Jane blinked. That was just weird. She'd have thought he'd seen a ghost or...something. The thought clicked into place and Jane took off after him, flying past the metal detectors, the soles of her shoes slipping against the marble floor. "Hey, wait!" she called as he guard reached the hidden door and began to fumble with his id card. "WAIT!"

Amanda had been in the midst of rolling her eyes at Monet and about to tell her to pack in the seductress act when Jane took off. "Go after her!" she told Monet sharply, knowing the trainee X-Man would be better at keeping Jane out of trouble, no matter what happened. For her part, she turned back to Bob, raising her hands in a pacifying manner. "Look, we don't want any trouble, we'll just get my friend back and leave, nice and quiet-like, all right?" she began.

Apparently unable to get the door open, the guard bolted down a side hallway and Jane chased after him, heedless of the people she ran into as she followed. "I just want to talk to you!" Desperation began to weave into her voice. The guard had to know something. Why else would he have run from her? What did he know that made him run from her? "Do you know me? Please, stop!"

As the pair wove through a maze of halls with fewer and fewer people in them, Jane stopped trying to keep track of the turns, becoming increasingly lost in the sterile, airless hallways. They rounded a corner that she was sure they'd already passed and found themselves in a narrow hallway, blocked at the end by a closed set of double doors. The guard slid to an abrupt halt before them and instead of trying to pull them open, turned back to Jane.

"Why did you run away from me? I just wanted to talk to you." Jane slowed to a stop and began to step forward carefully, trying not to spook him. The guard ducked his head down and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could make her disappear just by blocking the sight of her out. The childishness of the actions sent a chill though Jane. Why would he do that? "Do you know me?" she tried again, lowering her voice in an effort to sound calm. "Do you know who I am? Is it bad? Is that why you ran? Do you--"

A wave of nausea washed over Jane and she staggered back against the wall. Her mind felt fuzzy all of a sudden, as if someone had thrown a wet blanket over it. She tried to shake it to clear the haze, and instead it thickened. Her legs trembled, and she slid to the ground. What was happening to her? Jane looked over at the guard,who had opened his eyes again. He stared at her intently, his mouth was moving though the words were inaudible. "Wait. I don't..." The words were like molasses in Jane's mouth, thickening and slowly beginning to fail. "...please... "

Monet nodded and sprinted after Jane, trusting Amanda to deal with the guard. She rounded the corner in time to see Jane slowly fall to the ground. "What did you do to her?" Dropping to her knees beside Jane, she made a quick mindtouch. There were chains of thought slowly dissolving piece by piece in the girl's mind. "Janey, it's going to be okay." Looking up at the guard, Monet repeated her earlier question. "What did you do to her?"

Remembing Marius and a dingy commission flat in Sydney, she stood slowly. "You're eating her brain." And unlike Marius, this man had never had a maladaptive mutation. He could do it properly. Grabbing him by his shirt, she shook him hard. "Stop it. Stop it!"

"Let go of me, you bitch!" The guard snarled, struggling to get free from Monet's grip. "You want this, too?" His body went limp in her hands as his eyes slid shut again, and he began to mutter under his breath.

It felt slimy, like someone was pouring oil into Monet's brain, drip by drip. Her training - as a telepath and as an X-man was forgotten in her terror because this was like Marius all over again and he was trying to eat her brain and were her hands going to stop working again because he was eating her brain, Monet slammed the guard against the wall. She hit him once, twice, wild, uncontrolled blows.

There was a different sensation, all of a sudden. Like a cool breeze had just blown through her brain, clearing away the oily feeling. Something else came with it, a voice that whispered insistently at Monet to let him go, stop hitting him, you don't want to kill him.

She let go and stepped back, crying. The guard slumped to the floor, unnoticed.

An arm slipped around her shoulders and pulled her more back. "It's okay, you're okay," Amanda murmured into her ear before looking over at Jane. "You all right, Jane?"

"Ungh." Jane groaned and slowly pushed herself back up the wall. The smothering pressure on Jane's brain was fading, but her thoughts were still jumbled. "I. Yeah, I. Think so." Her eyes drifted across the prone figure of the security guard lay on the floor across from her. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." Amanda looked at the woman approaching them, her face growing hard. "But we're not leaving until we find out."

"I think," the woman said, "that it would be a very good idea if we all calmed down, sat down, and discussed this." There was a strange, subtle force behind the words. She gave Monet an intent look for a moment, and the other man a fulminating one. When it came to Jane, however, her eyes seemed to... skip over her, as if making contact wasn't something she wanted to do just now. "My name is Elisha Quinan. If you'll all come with me, please?"