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Mar. 10th, 2004 10:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs Kwannon comes face to face with the world's most powerful telepath.
Charles wheeled quietly into the observation room, feeling more tired than he could remember feeling in a long time.
She was there, lying quietly on the table, sleeping the sleep of the deeply tranquilized. This would make the job he had to do easier in some ways, and more difficult in others, and he did not know if he had the heart to look Elisabeth in the eye when it was done.
But the job must be done, and would be done the sooner the less time he spent contemplating it. Wheeling over to her head, Charles settled himself, closed his eyes, and entered her mind.
He stood in a darkened space, obscured in shadow. Here, he could walk--here, he could fly, if he felt the need to visualize a suitable environment. He seldom did; walking was enough.
He called light, and the shadows skittered away.
"Show yourself."
"You are being awfully bold, showing yourself in here, Xavier." The sound of her heels, resonated on the floor. "This is my domain."
"No, it is not. You are an usurper here, and I have come to set things to rights."
"You've managed to stay blind to many things, for quite some time." In a black leotard, Kwannon walked in from obscurity. Her features embelished by her form of dress, black hair fell past her eyes and down her shoulders. Her sheath strapped over her back, held fast onto her katana blade and a pair of her sais hung loosely off her belt. She was an assasin and her weapons of choice, even within the psychic landscape, spoke of her mastery. "Leave now and your incompetence can remain between us."
"I think not," Charles said quietly. He stood, bearing no weapon but his own presence. "I have much for which I will need to answer, that is true. But you must be stopped."
"That is only if you succeed," Kwannon quipped, watching his rising form. "I'm surprise a man of your stature, would act without question. You assume I am some parasite to be dealt with, yet you know nothing of me. Ethics be damned, is that it Professor?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Tell me of yourself, then. Tell me why, after you have usurped the body of my friend and colleague, and done evil with it, you should not be expunged?"
"I merely took advantage of the options handed to me." She looked about the dark surroundings with remote interest. "I have always managed to survive, regardless of the circumstances, this situation is no different."
"That is not a reason; it is a justification." Charles sighed. "I offer you the opportunity to surrender."
"To do surrender would relagate me to death." Kwannon replied. She unsheathed her katana. The blade emitted a menacing purple glow, as she held it in her hands. "And I would rather die fighting than leave my memory, tainted, as a coward.
"Very well. I am sorry it has come to this."
"So be it." She grinned, her face looking ethereal in the dim light. Kwannon pulled back on the blade and brought it down with force.
Charles simply raised a hand, and the blade stopped as if striking a stone wall. He reached out with the other, and Kwannon's arms snapped to her sides, held fast in an invisible grip.
She struggled from within the restraints. "I thought it was just self-promotion, the all powerful telepath bit. Something to tell the parents on the grand tour," she said, her voice filled with disgust. "You kill me, you might as well kill Elisabeth."
"I must believe otherwise. Where have you hidden her?"
You think I'd give up my only bargaining chip, then you're an even more deluded." Kwannon grin grew. "It'd be quite the shame to have your beloved colleague remain a vegetable for the rest of her life."
"As you will." Charles tightened his grip on Kwannon, and simultaneously let his mind range, searching for traces of Betsy. The drug would make this a tricky proposition, but not as frustrating, he judged, as negotiating a deal would be.
She listened in on his thoughts, through the link developed between them. And he was pulling away from her, searching for his lost comrade. Kwannon twisted within the restraints, pulling herself loose. "Old fool," she seethed.
"Die like all those who've fell before me!" She pulled the sais from her waist, charging him.
"Mm?" Charles' attention drifted back to Kwannon, and his face tightened in irritation. "I don't have time for you at the moment. Stay there." The assassin found herself suspended in midair, her charge arrested, hanging perfectly still in a haze of pale light.
"Elisabeth? Can you hear me?" His voice echoed around the mindscape.
Kwannon fumed, she willed all her psychic energy into fighting the restraints. It proved too much. She could not break away from his grasp, and the possibility of revisiting the null that was her death was maddening. "Let me go!"
"No." Charles narrowed his eyes--there was a trace, a wisp, that spoke of Elisabeth. He touched it and tracked it to its source.
In the depths of her subconscious, Betsy waited. Her mind awakened to the presence of another mind. Charles. She watched the scene unfold with relief. "Charles," she called out. She hoped to be heard in her weakened state.
"There you are." Charles fed her strength, and showed her a path upward. "It's safe to come out, for the moment. I have her restrained."
The door to her cell opened, freeing her from captivity. She followed the tendrils of light, leading up to the surface. From the hollows of her mind, Betsy Braddock appeared. Stumbling forward into her new surroundings, she watched the scene before her, in shock. Her hand came up to her face, shakily wiping her hand across her forehead.
Charles established a firmer link as soon as she came within view, a tide of psychic energy flowing down it to bolster her fading strength. "All will be well now, Elisabeth. Lean on me."
She washed in the warmth of the psychic feedback, Betsy closed her eyes in relief. She slumped against him, letting him bear the burden of her struggles. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."
"I can only beg your forgiveness I did not come sooner." He eyed Kwannon, still dangling. "And I fear we still have a task ahead of us."
"If you get me out of here. I promise you, you'll get it." She watched the trapped form of her captor, held in mid-air. She kept her eyes on Kwannon, as she asked. "What do you have in mind?"
"Ensuring that she does not trouble you again, however that is to be accomplished. She has no place here."
"I agree, but I don't wish her death, either. No matter what she's done," Betsy shuddered, bowing her head to collect herself. "I don't think I have it in me, Charles."
Charles smiled gently. "Kuan Yin is the goddess of mercy, in Buddhist tradition. You are far more deserving of the name than she." He regarded Kwannon thoughtfully. "If she can be contained without being destroyed, I will do so."
"That is all I can ask," Betsy replied quietly. She looked onto Kwannon with the full knowlege of what had transpired since her incapacitation. To Kwannon's benefit, Betsy's emotions were so taxed, she was devoid of her anger. "Until perhaps, another solution can be gained."
"Then, for now, perhaps the just consequence would be for her to experience what she put you through."
"Don't you come near me," Kwannon screamed. "Let me go, Xavier!"
Elisabeth felt her heart turn, feeling some satisfaction at the twist of fate. "Goodbye, Kwannon." With one last look, Betsy turned away from the assassin. "I'm ready to go home, Professor."
He smiled at her, then turned back to the assassin. "Goodbye, Kwannon. For now."
The pale light surrounding Kwannon brightened, then became brighter still, until she could not be seen through the glare.
When it faded, she stood, frozen in mid-leap, a statue of ice.
Charles turned to Elisabeth. "She will not escape that binding soon, and I will know when she begins to." He smiled wryly. "I'm afraid you'll have a rather heavy dose of tranquilizers to sleep off before you can enjoy your freedom, my dear. But we will all be waiting for you when you wake up."
"But to what will I be waking up?" Betsy sent through their link. "I fear what awaits me," she whispered.
"You were a prisoner, and a victim, Elisabeth. The situation might be . . . awkward, at first, but I did promise that all will be well, and I mean to keep my word." He smiled sadly, sending reassurance back down the link. "I . . . read her memories, while I was binding her, and I will do my best to explain that . . . the things she did . . . are not to be laid at your feet. You fought her at every turn."
"But, it wasn't enough...to stop her," Betsy half-sobbed. She fought hard to keep her composure. It would do her no good to focus despite her spiraling thoughts. "I'll..manage," she grounded out, quelling the tears. "I'll see you when I wake up."
"You will. To you especially, my door is always open, day or night." He smiled. "And if you are not too drugged for dreams, may they be sweet."
She gave the Professor a brief nod as she faded from him, willing herself to rest, to sleep. And for several hours within the medlab she stayed unconscious. Perhaps to wish the world away or to find absolution for crimes committed against her family. In the medlabs, Betsy would remain. And it would appear there would be no shortage of tears any time soon.
Charles wheeled quietly into the observation room, feeling more tired than he could remember feeling in a long time.
She was there, lying quietly on the table, sleeping the sleep of the deeply tranquilized. This would make the job he had to do easier in some ways, and more difficult in others, and he did not know if he had the heart to look Elisabeth in the eye when it was done.
But the job must be done, and would be done the sooner the less time he spent contemplating it. Wheeling over to her head, Charles settled himself, closed his eyes, and entered her mind.
He stood in a darkened space, obscured in shadow. Here, he could walk--here, he could fly, if he felt the need to visualize a suitable environment. He seldom did; walking was enough.
He called light, and the shadows skittered away.
"Show yourself."
"You are being awfully bold, showing yourself in here, Xavier." The sound of her heels, resonated on the floor. "This is my domain."
"No, it is not. You are an usurper here, and I have come to set things to rights."
"You've managed to stay blind to many things, for quite some time." In a black leotard, Kwannon walked in from obscurity. Her features embelished by her form of dress, black hair fell past her eyes and down her shoulders. Her sheath strapped over her back, held fast onto her katana blade and a pair of her sais hung loosely off her belt. She was an assasin and her weapons of choice, even within the psychic landscape, spoke of her mastery. "Leave now and your incompetence can remain between us."
"I think not," Charles said quietly. He stood, bearing no weapon but his own presence. "I have much for which I will need to answer, that is true. But you must be stopped."
"That is only if you succeed," Kwannon quipped, watching his rising form. "I'm surprise a man of your stature, would act without question. You assume I am some parasite to be dealt with, yet you know nothing of me. Ethics be damned, is that it Professor?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Tell me of yourself, then. Tell me why, after you have usurped the body of my friend and colleague, and done evil with it, you should not be expunged?"
"I merely took advantage of the options handed to me." She looked about the dark surroundings with remote interest. "I have always managed to survive, regardless of the circumstances, this situation is no different."
"That is not a reason; it is a justification." Charles sighed. "I offer you the opportunity to surrender."
"To do surrender would relagate me to death." Kwannon replied. She unsheathed her katana. The blade emitted a menacing purple glow, as she held it in her hands. "And I would rather die fighting than leave my memory, tainted, as a coward.
"Very well. I am sorry it has come to this."
"So be it." She grinned, her face looking ethereal in the dim light. Kwannon pulled back on the blade and brought it down with force.
Charles simply raised a hand, and the blade stopped as if striking a stone wall. He reached out with the other, and Kwannon's arms snapped to her sides, held fast in an invisible grip.
She struggled from within the restraints. "I thought it was just self-promotion, the all powerful telepath bit. Something to tell the parents on the grand tour," she said, her voice filled with disgust. "You kill me, you might as well kill Elisabeth."
"I must believe otherwise. Where have you hidden her?"
You think I'd give up my only bargaining chip, then you're an even more deluded." Kwannon grin grew. "It'd be quite the shame to have your beloved colleague remain a vegetable for the rest of her life."
"As you will." Charles tightened his grip on Kwannon, and simultaneously let his mind range, searching for traces of Betsy. The drug would make this a tricky proposition, but not as frustrating, he judged, as negotiating a deal would be.
She listened in on his thoughts, through the link developed between them. And he was pulling away from her, searching for his lost comrade. Kwannon twisted within the restraints, pulling herself loose. "Old fool," she seethed.
"Die like all those who've fell before me!" She pulled the sais from her waist, charging him.
"Mm?" Charles' attention drifted back to Kwannon, and his face tightened in irritation. "I don't have time for you at the moment. Stay there." The assassin found herself suspended in midair, her charge arrested, hanging perfectly still in a haze of pale light.
"Elisabeth? Can you hear me?" His voice echoed around the mindscape.
Kwannon fumed, she willed all her psychic energy into fighting the restraints. It proved too much. She could not break away from his grasp, and the possibility of revisiting the null that was her death was maddening. "Let me go!"
"No." Charles narrowed his eyes--there was a trace, a wisp, that spoke of Elisabeth. He touched it and tracked it to its source.
In the depths of her subconscious, Betsy waited. Her mind awakened to the presence of another mind. Charles. She watched the scene unfold with relief. "Charles," she called out. She hoped to be heard in her weakened state.
"There you are." Charles fed her strength, and showed her a path upward. "It's safe to come out, for the moment. I have her restrained."
The door to her cell opened, freeing her from captivity. She followed the tendrils of light, leading up to the surface. From the hollows of her mind, Betsy Braddock appeared. Stumbling forward into her new surroundings, she watched the scene before her, in shock. Her hand came up to her face, shakily wiping her hand across her forehead.
Charles established a firmer link as soon as she came within view, a tide of psychic energy flowing down it to bolster her fading strength. "All will be well now, Elisabeth. Lean on me."
She washed in the warmth of the psychic feedback, Betsy closed her eyes in relief. She slumped against him, letting him bear the burden of her struggles. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."
"I can only beg your forgiveness I did not come sooner." He eyed Kwannon, still dangling. "And I fear we still have a task ahead of us."
"If you get me out of here. I promise you, you'll get it." She watched the trapped form of her captor, held in mid-air. She kept her eyes on Kwannon, as she asked. "What do you have in mind?"
"Ensuring that she does not trouble you again, however that is to be accomplished. She has no place here."
"I agree, but I don't wish her death, either. No matter what she's done," Betsy shuddered, bowing her head to collect herself. "I don't think I have it in me, Charles."
Charles smiled gently. "Kuan Yin is the goddess of mercy, in Buddhist tradition. You are far more deserving of the name than she." He regarded Kwannon thoughtfully. "If she can be contained without being destroyed, I will do so."
"That is all I can ask," Betsy replied quietly. She looked onto Kwannon with the full knowlege of what had transpired since her incapacitation. To Kwannon's benefit, Betsy's emotions were so taxed, she was devoid of her anger. "Until perhaps, another solution can be gained."
"Then, for now, perhaps the just consequence would be for her to experience what she put you through."
"Don't you come near me," Kwannon screamed. "Let me go, Xavier!"
Elisabeth felt her heart turn, feeling some satisfaction at the twist of fate. "Goodbye, Kwannon." With one last look, Betsy turned away from the assassin. "I'm ready to go home, Professor."
He smiled at her, then turned back to the assassin. "Goodbye, Kwannon. For now."
The pale light surrounding Kwannon brightened, then became brighter still, until she could not be seen through the glare.
When it faded, she stood, frozen in mid-leap, a statue of ice.
Charles turned to Elisabeth. "She will not escape that binding soon, and I will know when she begins to." He smiled wryly. "I'm afraid you'll have a rather heavy dose of tranquilizers to sleep off before you can enjoy your freedom, my dear. But we will all be waiting for you when you wake up."
"But to what will I be waking up?" Betsy sent through their link. "I fear what awaits me," she whispered.
"You were a prisoner, and a victim, Elisabeth. The situation might be . . . awkward, at first, but I did promise that all will be well, and I mean to keep my word." He smiled sadly, sending reassurance back down the link. "I . . . read her memories, while I was binding her, and I will do my best to explain that . . . the things she did . . . are not to be laid at your feet. You fought her at every turn."
"But, it wasn't enough...to stop her," Betsy half-sobbed. She fought hard to keep her composure. It would do her no good to focus despite her spiraling thoughts. "I'll..manage," she grounded out, quelling the tears. "I'll see you when I wake up."
"You will. To you especially, my door is always open, day or night." He smiled. "And if you are not too drugged for dreams, may they be sweet."
She gave the Professor a brief nod as she faded from him, willing herself to rest, to sleep. And for several hours within the medlab she stayed unconscious. Perhaps to wish the world away or to find absolution for crimes committed against her family. In the medlabs, Betsy would remain. And it would appear there would be no shortage of tears any time soon.
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Date: 2004-03-10 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-11 11:36 am (UTC)