Marie-Ange and Nathan, Wendsday evening

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Wendsday evening, Marie-Ange seeks out Nathan for more lessons in meditation. She gets a glimpse into how to better use her power, Nathan explains some of the problems with his.



Marie-Ange knocked lightly on the door to Dr. MacTaggart's rooms. Having already tried Nathan's and getting no answer - and fairly sure he was up and alert, due to seeing posts and comments on the journal system, she was pretty sure he would be there, and hopefully not asleep or being cute with the doctor.

Nathan looked up from his laptop, smiling. "Come in, Angie," he called, saving the draft of the email he was working on and closing the computer. As Marie-Ange opened the door and came in, he straightened in the chair, determined he was going to make this a more pleasant conversation than the last one they'd had. "I'm glad you stopped by," he said, his smile turning into a grin. "I was getting bored."

Marie-Ange came into the room completely, and returned the smile. "If you are not too busy, I was wondering if you had time to show me more of the meditation exercises?" She hesitated for a moment, then added. "Doug said you mentioned it.."

"Like I said, boredom is setting in. I seem to have nothing but time." He set the computer on the table beside him, still smiling, a bit wistfully this time. "And I feel bad about not having had the chance to help you more, so yes, let's meditate ourselves silly."

Still a little unsure of the idea, Angie nodded anyway, and glanced around the room briefly before remembering that the last time, they had sat on the floor. She made a little frown-y face of uncertainty before shrugging off her nervousness and taking a seat. "It helped before, the exercise with the mirror, at least, a little."

"It was just the beginnings of a visualization exercise," Nathan said. "I was impressed that you made that much progress, actually. But I didn't want to push you too far in a first session." He watched her settle down into the chair opposite his, sensing her hesitation. "The chair's fine," he said, chuckling. "My problem is that I learned meditation from a traditionalist, so I'm used to observing some of the outwards forms. It's what's in your head that's important, though." He gave her a thoughtful look. "So have you tried it again? You said the exercise helped..."

Marie-Ange hesitated a bit before answering, trying to figure out how to explain.. and then deciding it probably didn't matter -why-. "I was trying to .. figure out something, and I thought it might help. I think it did. It was .. easier to .. " She frowned in frustration. "I hate that there are not any easy words to describe how it works. It was easier to use my precognition, but I do not have the words to explain how it was easier, or what I do..."

Nathan raised a hand to still the flow of words. "Don't worry," he said soothingly. "Putting words to it--or to that, at least, isn't what's important. The fact that it was easier is a good sign. We'll work from there." He straightened in his chair a little, laying his hands on the arms of the chair and slowing his breathing. "Close your eyes," he said calmly. "Visualize the mirror again, and her..."

Angie nodded, and closed her eyes, pulling the image of the mirror-her into her imagination again. As she expected, it was her, with the blue and white cloth draped over her lap again. Other than that odd detail, it was her reflection, down to the green barrettes she had pulled her hair back with. She scowled, and let out a sigh. "It keeps -doing- that," she said quietly.

Nathan reached out, making a very delicate contact with her mind, just enough to see what she was seeing. "Blue and white," he murmured, intrigued. "Do the colors mean anything to you?"

Angie frowned, shaking her head. "I am not sure." she answered. "It comes up every time I try to picture that though. At least, the last time, it did." She tried to concentrate, reforming the image in her head, to catch some of the details.

"How do they make you feel? The colors, I mean."

Angie opened her eyes, and scrunched up her nose, thinking. "Confused, and unsure. I think I should know what they mean, or why I keep seeing them, but I cannot quite figure it out."

"Let it go, for now," he suggested. "Focus on her instead. Meet her eyes... try saying hello."

Angie shut her eyes, but couldn't hold back a giggle. "This is .. silly." She said, trying to concentrate on the mirror-her again.

"Remember what I said about laughing at your precognition," he reminded her with a grin. "Seriously, though... try reaching out. Lay your hand on the mirror."

Marie-Ange took a calming breath, and let the image of the mirror reform itself in her mind. As always, her twin was draped in the blue and white cloth, and mimicking Angie's own seated pose. She wasn't quite sure how to do what Nathan had suggested, and for a moment, the mental picture wavered, before she decided to simply picture her own hand meeting the mirror's surface. As she did, the surface of the mirror dulled, losing the shine of glass, and becoming more like the stiff surface of a painting.

"Not a painting," Nathan said, blinking. "One of your cards, Angie... isn't it?"

Marie-Ange blinked, losing the image, but having caught Nathan's question. "Je suis stupide. That was stupid of me I should seen that." She let out a little laugh, at herself. "I think you are right. Doug.. uses it for an email nickname, and I did not even consider that."

"It makes sense," Nathan said thoughtfully. "You rely so heavily on your cards. But this is a good thing, Angie... it means that you've personified this part of you, given it its own distinct identity, in a way. This should make it easier to communicate with it."

"I.. hope so." Angie said, just a little unsteadily. "I worry.. that I use the cards too often. They were just a whim before, and.. " She frowned. "They seem to work, but I cannot explain why."

He frowned pensively at her. "Why does that worry you?" he asked. "If they're anything, they're a tool, not a crutch. Remember what I said about the human mind not really being made to see the future?" He smiled mirthlessly. "I should be as good an example of that as any. Trust me, if I had a... mechanism, a way of translating the vision into something I could intellectualize, I would use it." Nathan snorted softly. "Although, believe it or not, Charles is encouraging me to use the mirror-idea, too."

Angie nodded seriously. "You would think, with all the people who talk about wanting to know the future, all the silly commercials on the television at three in the morning, that when people could, it would not be so very difficult.." She frowned, looking a little concerned. "Is.. is it helping? What the Professor is trying to do? If it is.. okay to ask?"

"Fair's fair," he said seriously. He shouldn't be pushing her to talk about her experience of precognition if he wasn't willing to share his own. Except that he didn't want to scare her. "It is helping, my little stint in the medlab notwithstanding. It turns out that the root of my problem is telepathic, not precognitive." He grinned wryly. "Which is a little comforting, because at least I can blame it on the ability I never developed rather than the one I thought I had control over."

Marie-Ange nodded. "Good." She didn't say the rest - that she did not want to see Dr. MacTaggart hurt, that she was sure people would miss him, that -she- would miss getting to talk to another precognitive. It seemed silly, and cliché, and pointless. "So, you have to develop the telepathy to stop the visions?" She asked, tentatively.

"To stop them from killing me," Nathan said, the grin dying to a rueful smile. "Not sure they're ever going to stop entirely." He regarded Marie-Ange for a moment, then ventured a little more of an explanation. "This woman--Askani, that is, apparently sensed me watching them. She reached out and... forced the precognitive condition wider."

Marie-Ange shook her head slowly, as if in disbelief. "So.. people from the future are talking to you telepathically?" She caught herself making an almost-horrified expression and quashed it. "That makes me glad I seem to only get a few months ahead of myself. "

Nathan chuckled. "There are pros and cons to both types of precognition, I'd imagine," he said. "At least I know there are two thousand years before any of the things I've seen come to pass. You have to worry about your own future, or the futures of people you know and care about."

Angie nodded, looking very serious. "Which is why I want to make it work, because seeing my friends hurt and not knowing when it will really happen is worse than a few headaches."

"Then you will," Nathan said, absolutely confident. Determination was half the battle, right there, and there didn't seem to be any dysfunction involved in Angie's precog. Just lack of experience, which could be easily remedied.

"But if the headaches go away, I'm not complaining." Angie added lightly.

Nathan grinned. "You and me both, mi'savra," he said, the Askani for 'little sister' slipping out of its own accord.

Marie-Ange smiled, catching the tone of the phrase if not the actual meaning, and glanced at her watch, not quite sure how long the meditation exercise had taken. She frowned a little, then shrugged. "I have to go talk to Ms. Frost about French class. Um. I feel like I should be scheduling appointments or .. something?"

Nathan shrugged. "Hey, this is all extracurricular," he reminded her. "Just drop me an email when you have time and feel inclined. A couple of times a week for now will probably be plenty. You need to explore that image for a while longer before we move on to anything more complex."

"Okay. I still kind of have free time." Angie shook her head, trying to hide a smile. "Even with music class." She stood, and headed for the door. "As soon as I actually -know- when my free time is, instead of having a sort of vague idea that I might have some, I will email." she said, and left the room, only to duck her head back in a second later to thank Nathan for his time.