xp_logs | Manuel, Kwannon, and Betsy

x-psylocke.livejournal.com posting in

This log takes place after this log here and this one here.

It’d taken a while to recover from Manuel’s first attack. She hadn’t expected it and it had weakened her, significantly enough to have Kwannon lock her within this hellhole. Grit caked onto her face, her purple hair slick with sweat. She lashed out against her mental prison, her fist colliding with the door. “Let me out!”

Purple eyes remained fixed on the steel barrier. Knowing that each blow delivered by her fist sent a battering force into that bitch’s heart. It was only a manner of time before the door would break against her persistence. It was that simple belief that allowed Betsy Braddock to endure. And with her last blow, the door buckled. She would not die here; she would not. Betsy continued to berate the door as if her life depended on it and it did.

***

Watching the unraveling of the little runt's potion proved amusing, but the consequences were quite unexpected. Her grip on her control was slipping enough to warrant concern and to seek out the Empath. Her mind traveled the pathways, following the ribbons of life connected the students to her. And there, in his quarters, did she find him alone.

Manuel was actually doing some of his homework - and not liking it one bit. The translations were bad enough, but the actual coursework had his head swimming in very short order. He's not paying attention to psionic thought-tendrils right now, and his mind is more staticky than usual.

In her quarters, Kwannon found herself smirking at Manuel's struggle. She watched him, lying on his bed, his shirt bunching up over his stomach. The image enticed her even further that she brought her hand up, gliding it across his face.

Manuel blinked as he felt the sensation through the psionic link that he hadn't even realized had been established. But he'd been paying attention in psionics class, and sends an empathic pulse back along the link and into Kwannon's mind - amusement, mild interest, naughtiness.

Her grin widened. You should try harder at your studies. She strengthened the link and appeared before him. Seating herself on his bed, looking down at Manuel with mild interest. Believe me when I say, distractions can be most...troublesome, if you allow yourself to fall into them.

Manuel grinned at that. "I've always thought it best to surrender to temptation - just in case it doesn't pass your way again" he 'paths over to Kwannon. "I presume you wish something from me?"

She licked her lips, bringing her hand from his face and letting it trail down his chest. Her black hair fell over her eyes, never concealing the lust behind them. "Indeed, I do. But you didn't reply to my request in my journal, so I thought I would bring my request, personally."

Manuel grinned. "Personal requests merit personal attention. So what do you want, Kwannon?" he smirked.

"Besides you, a few things actually." she leaned back on her arms, prostrating for him, knowing he would enjoy the view. The intensity of close contact with Manuel was proving electrifying for her, but she needed to focus long enough to explain her visit. Yet, she could not remain outside his touch for long, as she brought her body inches from him. Her hands lightly working from his abs to his chest, taking in a sharp breath at the 'contact'. "My control is worsening around you, as it is around Braddock," she said in between breaths. "She wills for freedom and I will for peace of mind. I also want to know more about the little witch, Amanda and her abilities."

Manuel closes his eyes for just a second, to revel in the touch. "Yes, I suppose that could be very inconvenient. You know, there are those around here who suspect you of something dark. I wonder why that is..."

“Because of their lack of imagination, I presume." She smirked. “And Amanda?”

He waved his hand at the name. “A sorceress, working on reading auras of the people around her, the way I can read the emotions of those around me.”

“Read auras. Interesting.” She filed that information for further use, glancing down at his bare stomach. Kwannon brought her hand in contact with his skin. "Much better. If you'd like to avoid my /dark/ presence, then I should leave you to your studies." She removed her hand, reluctantly.

Manuel smirked at the drama. "Don't be so transparent, it ill-suits you. Besides, you want me fairly badly. Do not lie, I can sense it. You're also getting desperate - that other person in your head is starting to claw her way free. Oh, she doesn't like _me_ one bit."

Kwannon bowed her head at the raging emotions locked within the mental vault, trying to unwork the framework of locks, enslaving her. "Yes, she detests you. Very such so. I ask that you don't provoke her, Manuel. It's been having an rather annoying side affect, lately."

"That's very interesting." he said, steepling his fingers. "I trust you need for me to make her Go Away for a while longer yet? Why should I? Our slate is clean, service for service. You'll have to find a new way to - pique my interest. Perhaps she's more fun than you are."

“If you wish to play games, my dear. You can continue to do so, but not with me." She rose from her position, yet with her abilities being stretched in too many directions, she wobbled, trying to make her way over to the doorframe. Her hand covering her eyes, she tried to collect herself, unsuccessfully. The stirring within her mind grew louder. As the mirage appeared before them and Betsy Braddock stood in the middle of the dorm room, eyeing both conspirators with distaste.

Manuel looked at this new projection with some amusement. "Well, hello." he says to the newcomer. "Sorry about earlier. Just business, nothing personal. That which doesn't kill you, and all that." To Kwannon he merely grins. "Seems that you're losing your grip."

Kwannon managed to turn herself around and close her eyes, muttering. "You will not win. Do you HEAR me! You will not win."

Betsy raised her hand, willing herself to speak. Yet, the gap between thought and speech too wide to cross. Within a matter of seconds, the mirage disappeared and Kwannon slumped, haphazardly to the floor.

Manuel watched this whole process go down with great amusement. "I'd say you have a problem here. And unless you'd like for me to take your little problem to the Powers That Be, I suggest you get a _LOT_ more accomodating _very_ quickly."

"You're forgetting one thing, my dear, simple Manuel." Kwannon heaved. "You helped me. You took their beloved teacher and helped enslaved her. She probably would've broken through long ago without your help. And I think that warrants us keeping this secret, ours. Don't you?"

Manuel quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? If I bring this to them now, I can explain things from the most advantageous point of view - my own. But if you interfere, then all I have to do is play dumb. After all, I'm not a telepath. How could _I_ keep poor Betsy down? In fact ... I could even the scales right here and now. The meaning is plain - do not threaten me. I can control you far more than you can me."

Kwannon smirked. "Clever, clever. If you think it necessary to control me, you can try. Though, I don't think you could handle it, even if you did." Slowly, she gathered her strength. The nuisance had been handled for now and it was time to teach this boy some respect. Kwannon waited for Manuel to respond, her breathing ragged, she looked up at him, daring him to the challenge.

"I don't have to _control_ you - I'm not a telepath." he grinned. "All I have to do is let _her_ out. Then you'll have quite the handful on your hands, and if I lend my might to hers, you quite frankly don't stand a chance. Now, do I get what I want, or do you go back into the deep pit from whence you came?"

"Fine." Kwannon took a moment, before she pushed in. Pulling out the memory of the landscape she visited only once before, she pulled on Manuel and forced his mind into the setting. The asylum. The familiar dark, greying walls all around them, Manuel found himself tied up, face down on the table. The orderlies wearing their manical expressions and the same stifling fear permeated through the walls. She walked through the scenery and watched curiously as the guards worked on the young boy. There hands violating in the most private of places. “Our minds always take us in sick directions, places we avoid, isn’t that right, Manuel?"

Manuel instinctively quailed at the memory, but instead of instantly caving in, he fought. Seems he hasn't been sleeping through Psionics class as much as it seemed. He takes all that frustration, that anguish, that pain of humiliation and violation, and channels it right back at Kwannon - setting up a feedback loop. "No, you should have it. Two years of humiliation and loss, all at once."

Kwannon pushed back on the feedback loop, fighting against it. She felt the pressure building as Manuel worked his way through her defenses. She let the restraints tightened on the boy, as she fought through his empathic landslide, slowly siphoning it to Betsy. It was having an affect on Kwannon as well, but not the expected one. As Betsy regressed even farther within herself, to barely a murmur, Kwannon felt refreshed. Her laughter reverberated off the walls as she moved toward him, she grinned. "If I hadn't been mild headache. But you've served your purpose and it was /truly/ appreciated."

Manuel gasped as the enormity of what he had done dawned on him. "Damn you!" he 'pathed down their link, trying desperately to shift the focus of his empathic abilities off of Betsy and to Kwannon.

"Too late, my dear. You've only sealed your fate." She leaned down on him, a devious grin lightening the Asian woman's face. "Tell me, how does it feel be used?"

"I'm sure I will," she scoffed. "But, you won't remember any of this and we can still keep playing this game and you won't have a clue, ever." She peered down at him, grinning. "You have to wonder, how many times we've already gone through this? I'll be back, later....."

Kwannon stood up, staring down at his shaking form; she couldn't help relishing the ingenuity of it all. "Of course, you won't remember any of it." Her body shimmer out of the room, leaving Manny in his nightmare, breaking his will to her own, and removing any memory of this encouter from his mind. It wouldn't do to have him remember this nasty encounter, if she were to use him again.

Manuel, for his part, whimpered and thrashed in his own bed, lost in memories.

***

Betsy had managed to breakthrough the surface for only a moment. An instant before the backlash from Manny’s second empathic wave shoved her back through the catacombs of the psychic landscape. But, she had made contact and saw them.

With a loud thud, she landed unceremoniously back within the small steel cell, the door quickly slamming shut behind her. She looked around the familiar surroundings Kwannon had kindly manufactured while she circumvented control. “Blast it!” Betsy cried out.

Her chest heaved, hot air escaping her chapped lips, kicking up the layers of dirt on the cell floor. She stood up, as the sound of loud screeching filled the room and a dark mass of energy was moving toward her.

Raising her hands against the tide of emotions, creating a meager psionic shield to protect herself. She weathered the force of the empath’s blast as it battered against the shell from all sides. It was a matter of seconds before her defenses failed and she suffered through a tidal wave of anger, frustration, despair, and agony. Mirroring the same emotions Manny had experienced only a short time ago. And while, she writhed on the floor, a small part of her felt pity for him. Yet, all her mind could process was the landslide of emotions, burrowing with her psyche, consuming everything. And she screamed. Betsy screamed until she collapsed on the barren floor of her subconscious.

***

Insanity is often misunderstood. It is only the insane that risk all and truly live.