Psi War: Obscura | Quentin & Topaz
Sep. 14th, 2017 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsQuentin observes the psychic battle from afar, and Topaz just rolls her eyes.
Quentin was taking a sick day, ie, whatever new strain of bud he tried last night put him on his ass and no way was he going to make it into the office today. He needed peace and quiet, and maybe a book to pass the time. Picture books. There was a decent collection of art in the library, maybe Xavier had books on Mapplethorpe or Tom of Finland.
He ignored the librarian when he entered and headed straight to the 700s stack. He kneeled to check what was there in photography when a sudden sharp pain struck in his head. It felt like brain freeze, but subsided quickly. For the most part. A dull throb persisted, and Quentin got up to shoot a nasty look at Topaz. He barely knew her, but he did at least know she had some psychic ability, so she could be the culprit.
Topaz was happy to ignore Quire; she was trying to focus on her homework and get it all done before she had to go teach a magic class. She swore Amanda just gave her those when she didn't feel like teaching...
Her thought process was cut off by a dull, sudden throb in the back of her head. Topaz gritted her teeth, waiting for it to pass, then lifted her head to look at Quentin, who was glaring at her. "Oi," she snapped irritably. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to attack someone telepathically before they provoke you?"
"I didn't . . ." He groaned and rubbed his temples. "That wasn't me. Thought it was you." Very very slowly, Quentin lowered the box fort he called his mental shields to try to track the source of the discomfort. "It's local, whatever it is. God, if Chuckles is having a stroke and sharing it with everyone . . ."
Topaz took some sympathy, getting the bottle of aspirin out of her drawer and putting it on the desk for Quentin to take if he wanted. "That would be a damn shame," she murmured absentmindedly, pulling out her phone to see if anyone was talking about it on the journals, perhaps.
Still rubbing his head to try to relieve the pressure, Quentin left the stacks to get the meds. He had just poured out a couple pills when he felt the familiar serenity that heralded Xavier's presence in his head. "Some asshole in the medlab," he said. "As if Frost croaking wasn't bad enough."
"She's in a coma, not dead," Topaz said automatically, returning her attention to her textbook. The emergency had passed, the danger was done (not that it had ever existed), and she still had to read chapter fifteen for class tomorrow. "At least no one's having a stroke."
Curious, Quentin pushed his mind further, following the thread downstairs. He couldn't get too close, though; it was like walking into a burning building. He actually physically recoiled and dropped the pill bottle. "Shit. There's something really fucked up happening there."
Topaz looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe stop poking it?" She suggested, like a mother telling a small child to stop putting their hand in the toilet.
"No, whatever it is, it's big. Psychically big. Aren't you curious?" He squinted his eyes, as if trying to focus on something just over Topaz's shoulder. "I think they're fighting. Oh fuck, it's an X-Men thing, isn't it? Fuck me." He sighed and waved a hand over the fallen bottle, calling it back up and placing it on her desk. "Can't they keep that shit anywhere else?"
"There's a difference between being curious about a bear and poking it with a stick," Topaz pointed out, although she frowned faintly at the mention of it being big. She was useless for anything beyond emotions, however. Unless it was magic, there was nothing for her to do. "Email the complaint department, I'm sure they'd love to hear from you."
Morbid curiosity got the better of him. There was something unusual about the battle, something Quentin couldn't quite place. There was another flare, as bright as the last but more focused, directing a sense of righteous rage at one target instead of everyone who would listen. Quentin gripped the edge of the desk so he wasn't knocked off his feet, but the psychic wave was gone as soon as he steadied himself. The astral plane was just static.
"Huh."
Topaz watched Quentin to make sure he didn't hurt himself. If the problem was down in the basement, hauling his sorry arse to the med lab or the Box wasn't going to be an option. She wasn't as in-tune with what was going on - empathy didn't lend itself to quite the same ability to sense things on the astral plane - but she could tell when whatever was happening finally ended. She tilted her head, waiting for a moment.
"Guess it's over?" She finally ventured.
Quentin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I think I'm going to go lie down. I need a nap." He left without saying another word.
Quentin was taking a sick day, ie, whatever new strain of bud he tried last night put him on his ass and no way was he going to make it into the office today. He needed peace and quiet, and maybe a book to pass the time. Picture books. There was a decent collection of art in the library, maybe Xavier had books on Mapplethorpe or Tom of Finland.
He ignored the librarian when he entered and headed straight to the 700s stack. He kneeled to check what was there in photography when a sudden sharp pain struck in his head. It felt like brain freeze, but subsided quickly. For the most part. A dull throb persisted, and Quentin got up to shoot a nasty look at Topaz. He barely knew her, but he did at least know she had some psychic ability, so she could be the culprit.
Topaz was happy to ignore Quire; she was trying to focus on her homework and get it all done before she had to go teach a magic class. She swore Amanda just gave her those when she didn't feel like teaching...
Her thought process was cut off by a dull, sudden throb in the back of her head. Topaz gritted her teeth, waiting for it to pass, then lifted her head to look at Quentin, who was glaring at her. "Oi," she snapped irritably. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to attack someone telepathically before they provoke you?"
"I didn't . . ." He groaned and rubbed his temples. "That wasn't me. Thought it was you." Very very slowly, Quentin lowered the box fort he called his mental shields to try to track the source of the discomfort. "It's local, whatever it is. God, if Chuckles is having a stroke and sharing it with everyone . . ."
Topaz took some sympathy, getting the bottle of aspirin out of her drawer and putting it on the desk for Quentin to take if he wanted. "That would be a damn shame," she murmured absentmindedly, pulling out her phone to see if anyone was talking about it on the journals, perhaps.
Still rubbing his head to try to relieve the pressure, Quentin left the stacks to get the meds. He had just poured out a couple pills when he felt the familiar serenity that heralded Xavier's presence in his head. "Some asshole in the medlab," he said. "As if Frost croaking wasn't bad enough."
"She's in a coma, not dead," Topaz said automatically, returning her attention to her textbook. The emergency had passed, the danger was done (not that it had ever existed), and she still had to read chapter fifteen for class tomorrow. "At least no one's having a stroke."
Curious, Quentin pushed his mind further, following the thread downstairs. He couldn't get too close, though; it was like walking into a burning building. He actually physically recoiled and dropped the pill bottle. "Shit. There's something really fucked up happening there."
Topaz looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe stop poking it?" She suggested, like a mother telling a small child to stop putting their hand in the toilet.
"No, whatever it is, it's big. Psychically big. Aren't you curious?" He squinted his eyes, as if trying to focus on something just over Topaz's shoulder. "I think they're fighting. Oh fuck, it's an X-Men thing, isn't it? Fuck me." He sighed and waved a hand over the fallen bottle, calling it back up and placing it on her desk. "Can't they keep that shit anywhere else?"
"There's a difference between being curious about a bear and poking it with a stick," Topaz pointed out, although she frowned faintly at the mention of it being big. She was useless for anything beyond emotions, however. Unless it was magic, there was nothing for her to do. "Email the complaint department, I'm sure they'd love to hear from you."
Morbid curiosity got the better of him. There was something unusual about the battle, something Quentin couldn't quite place. There was another flare, as bright as the last but more focused, directing a sense of righteous rage at one target instead of everyone who would listen. Quentin gripped the edge of the desk so he wasn't knocked off his feet, but the psychic wave was gone as soon as he steadied himself. The astral plane was just static.
"Huh."
Topaz watched Quentin to make sure he didn't hurt himself. If the problem was down in the basement, hauling his sorry arse to the med lab or the Box wasn't going to be an option. She wasn't as in-tune with what was going on - empathy didn't lend itself to quite the same ability to sense things on the astral plane - but she could tell when whatever was happening finally ended. She tilted her head, waiting for a moment.
"Guess it's over?" She finally ventured.
Quentin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I think I'm going to go lie down. I need a nap." He left without saying another word.
