Arthur & Hope | Observation
Sep. 5th, 2023 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsArthur asks Hope for help with his powers troubleshooting.
"My apologies, but you want me to do what?" Hope delicately raised her eyebrow as she eyed her coworker. "What could you hope to achieve with me observing your emotional state while you experiment?"
"Okay! See, let me lay it out for you." This was accompanied by a sweeping gesture, encompassing the entirety of the XFI offices in which Arthur Centino and Hope Abbott sat. It was a little cluttered, admittedly, and there was a suspicious number of abandoned manilla file folders that may have just been there to give the impression important work was being accomplished. That gesture, though, painted the office as the entirety of all known existence.
"My new powers give me what Haller called a sight handprint. Thoughts, feelings, vibes; a whole out of body experience. I seem to experience what a person holding the object was going through, but it all comes at once. You, though, you're the most observant person I know. I would love to know what you see when it happens. What I imagine playing out is that you doing your thing," and there was an accompanying figure waggle to demonstrate Hope using her astral sight, "and describing what's happening so I can get better at it. "
This was punctuated by a boyish smile and his arms spread out as if to invite agreement.
"I am not a telepath, Arthur." Hope narrowed her eyes, looking up from where she had sketched some quick notes. "I cannot see what happens inside your head. I am certainly willing to observe your aura though. Perhaps it might give some insights into how the handprint affects your emotional state. Is that something that would be helpful?"
"Ah!" Arthur's voice pitched excitedly at this. "See, that's why you are perfect! One can't walk fifty feet in the mansion without finding a telepath. You're something special, and not just because you're poised, brilliant, well manicured, and have an impeccable sense for filing. You see things others don't. It is my hope that you'll catch a detail about what's going on that Haller or Quentin might not."
"I do not think my sense for filing is going to help here, but I will try to get whatever information I can for you." Hope glanced around the room. "Not here though. Would the alcove work for you?" In the alcove, a quiet out of the way corner outfitted with a recliner, her body would at least be comfortable when she ghosted out for however long this would take. "Or is there something else you require?"
She got an eager nod in answer, his blonde hair bobbing along as his eyes drifted over to the corner. "All I need is an object. Haller suggested that I only work with items I know, so," his gaze led over to his desk, to where a messenger bag sat ready to offer said known quanta. "Do you need anything in particular? White noise? Pillows? Also," he added seriously as it popped straight to mind, "Never devalue your ability to file."
"A comfortable place is always helpful." Hope explained as she rose and headed to the alcove. "That is why I had Warren get the recliner for when I was working out of the office. There are a few pillows there though if you wish to sit or you might wish to grab a chair."
Arriving there the recliner was luckily still set to her preferences and without ado she took off her shoes before settling back in the recliner. It only took a moment to become comfortable and as soon she closed her eyes the flower unfolded in her mind's eye. Hope's pearly ghost formed next to the recliner. 'Does this work for you?' she sent as she studied the current state of Arthur's aura.
She was treated to the aura-outlined shape of the man giving her an enthused thumbs up. "So far so good!" Arthur stopped, then, his emotions shifting toward curiosity and confusion as the gesture wilted a little. 'SO FAR SO GOOD?' he tried to think intently, like someone who had never seen a microphone before speaking into it for the first time.
Soft yellow flares radiated out from her coworker, but bright shimmers of orange of interest and anticipation sometimes nearly clouded his nerves. 'You can just speak normally, Arthur.' Hope easily deduced what he had tried to do from the blanking of his eyes and his focused expression. 'I can only send thoughts, not receive... Are you ready to get started?'
'YE---'
"Yes! Definitely." Arthur squinted carefully, briefly entranced by what seemed to be a pearly ghost in the air next to him. A curious look was exchanged from said ghost and back to the prone Hope. He tilted his head, yellow washing out to a curious purple. "Have to admit, Hope. This is really cool. You might have been right about filing."
'Just one important question before we get started... Are you able to communicate at all when you are under the thrall of the impressions? Like if they change?'
His aura deepened to an orange. "That's never actually come up! I had an idea to start small, though. A simple object."
'That makes sense. Do you think you could try to let me know if something significant changes, either vocally or by gesture? That way might enable us to match my impressions with what you are experiencing.' Hope commented, using the time to get familiar with the natural shifts in his aura, observing the tiny sparks of purple and deep pink now flashing all over his aura.
"Got it. We should have a code word or hand sign. All the best friends have those." The eager tone in his voice was only complimented with the implied 'I'm leaving that choice to you, best friend' upturn at the end of the statement.
Hope couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from turning up in a slight smile. He was really kinda adorable. "What would you like to use though to signal when the shift happens?"
"Well, my hands will be holding a thing. I might not be able to speak? Maybe a foot tap or a little dance?"
'I would suggest you stay seated.' Hope 'tilted' her head a little. 'Let's keep things as simple as possible. How about you simply wiggle your foot?'
A couple stritches striches of a chair dragging across the floor and Arthur was seated. He'd also taken the chance to grab his bag. It sat in his lap, and his gloved fingers tapped nervously on top of it. This was it. His shoulders tightened, expression hardening with resolve. "Foot, able to be wiggled. Object, fetched. Are we ready?"
His aura flared equally yellow and orange as he set his hands on the bag. Hope noticed in the back of her mind as she spoke: "I am ready."
The aura shape reached into a bag and retrieved a smaller than palm-sized object. Then it flared, unfolding like a fractal flower.
Different shades of yellow unfolded from where Arthur was holding the object, though multicolor strands of soft pink, pale green, sandry brown and an almost lilac purple seemed to wrap around them, almost strangeling the yellow.
A basement. Files were always in the basement, afterall. A wave of apprehensiveness squashed by a need to remain cool, calm, witty — control was about showing razor wit, but it was also something helpfully bolstered by reminding herself how clever this all was. Luck was a decent smokescreen.
She didn't need it.
A voice, as she worked. "You mean my sparkling personality and rapier wit haven't already dazzled you, Mr. Smith?"
Small victories with each key-stroke since there was nothing like a job well-done. Then...
The colors fought each other for a moment, only to be utterly washed away by a wave of deep green and pink that seemed to represent some form of utter joy.
Triumph. A wave of jubilation washed away any lingering doubts that SHIELD might be too secure.She'd done it again. She was Susan Storm.
"We're good to go."
And then... as sudden as the colors had begun, they were sucked back into the object, leaving only Arthur's orange and yellow streaked aura behind.
Placing the object on the table, the orange man gazed over at the ghost floating near Hope's unconscious form. "So," he ventured, "Anything interesting?"
"Just let me slip into my body first..." The flower petals in her mind closed as Hope slipped back into her body. The shift was almost so fluent nowadays that it only took a moment to open her eyes. "That was interesting to observe..." She commented once she sat up. "I am no expert, but I believe it is safe to say that the emotions tied to the object affect you directly. The colors unfolded directly into your aura, albeit with an unusual pattern... Does this match your personal experience at all?"
This got an eager nod. "I'm not sure what an unusual aura feels like, but that sounds really smart."
Hope gave him a small smile: "However, once you break your connection or link to the object, the emotions also quickly vanish... it's not like an event in real life, where traces of emotions can linger for days or even weeks."
"Huh," he underscored with puppy dog eyes and a disappointed shrug really effectively underscored the 'huh,' "That's almost exactly what it feels like. Except for the other feelings."
"You mean your own emotions? Only the foreign emotions linked to the objects in question disappear that quickly. Your own emotions as stirred by the visions behave just like your natural emotions." Hope tilted her head a little. "My apologies, I should have made that distinction immediately."
Arthur's wide eyes narrowed in thought, like he was searching the wall immediately behind Hope for the right words. "Have you ever felt like the universe was urging you toward doing something? Like that. A pull."
"Not like you are describing." Hope studied him for a moment before adding: "What are you being pulled towards? Or what is it asking you to do?"
"That's a mystery!" This was delivered entirely chipperly, like the man couldn't wait to find it out. "I am discovering that feelings and psionic powers don't come with instructions."
"I am afraid you have lost me, Arthur." Hope narrowed her eyes and studied him for a moment. "When is it especially when you feel that pulling sensation?" She could not help it... something felt iffy here.
All she got was another shrug. "Exactly! Mysteries. But..." He rummaged a little, producing both a notebook and a small micro-recorder. The notepad was turned open in reference. "Looks like those types of visions only come from new objects and not the ones I've felt before. Huh."
"That is an interesting nuance..." Her eyes narrowed further. "Arthur, have you spoken to any other people about how this new ability is affecting you? I know you mentioned Mr. Haller, but what are their impressions of it?"
"Haller," and it didn't even occur to him that he wasn't thinking of the man as David anymore, "Has been very helpful since he can see the things I see. He recommended trial and error with safe, known objects. Marie-Ange's advice was keeping detailed logs, but she encouraged touching many things."
That was perfectly fair advice, especially from what she'd seen herself from psi training. "Frankly Arthur, some of what you said worries me a little, but it is mostly a gut instinct."
Arthur's face melted into something slightly affronted, if only by being the cause of anything frank. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he deflected, "That is the last thing I wanted."
Hope threw him a slightly sharp look. "Arthur, you are not causing me stress. You are my teammate and you asked for my observations. I have seen enough psi abilities to know that they can come with concerns. Please just be careful."
"I appreciate your insight, Hope," he offered. "As a teammate and a friend. I'm not sure, however, how to be any more careful with this than I am. Do you have any suggestions?"
"I am not an expert, Arthur, and all I have is a gut feeling." Frustration flickered over her face as Hope demurred. "I wish I could offer you more."
She received a long, exhausted sigh in response as Arthur slumped into a nearby chair. "It has been difficult. I am not sure how real empaths do it. That drive was a safe one — just Sue's memories from years ago. But we deal with folks much less..."
"... with people with far less savory memories." Hope easily finished his sentence, but her eyes widened a little quickly as a thought occurred to her. "Did you remember Ms. Frost? There might be notes around from how she trained her psychometry."
"Funny story," Arthur added, "Haller says that what I'm doing is very different from Adrienne. Which? Honestly a relief." There was a shrug with that. "She didn't seem to get any emotional feedback. Just a lot more information. I shouldn't be held responsible for that."
Ignoring the last bit, Hope tilted her head: "When I first came here, I trained with two other young psi's. While not all material was applicable to all three of us, there was still much we did share. It could be a resource of idea's to test at least. All three of us learned various exercises to stay grounded and maintain our sense of self for one. Something similar might be found there for you."
Arthur considered only for a moment, "I would be delighted to learn. Please, show me."
"My apologies, but you want me to do what?" Hope delicately raised her eyebrow as she eyed her coworker. "What could you hope to achieve with me observing your emotional state while you experiment?"
"Okay! See, let me lay it out for you." This was accompanied by a sweeping gesture, encompassing the entirety of the XFI offices in which Arthur Centino and Hope Abbott sat. It was a little cluttered, admittedly, and there was a suspicious number of abandoned manilla file folders that may have just been there to give the impression important work was being accomplished. That gesture, though, painted the office as the entirety of all known existence.
"My new powers give me what Haller called a sight handprint. Thoughts, feelings, vibes; a whole out of body experience. I seem to experience what a person holding the object was going through, but it all comes at once. You, though, you're the most observant person I know. I would love to know what you see when it happens. What I imagine playing out is that you doing your thing," and there was an accompanying figure waggle to demonstrate Hope using her astral sight, "and describing what's happening so I can get better at it. "
This was punctuated by a boyish smile and his arms spread out as if to invite agreement.
"I am not a telepath, Arthur." Hope narrowed her eyes, looking up from where she had sketched some quick notes. "I cannot see what happens inside your head. I am certainly willing to observe your aura though. Perhaps it might give some insights into how the handprint affects your emotional state. Is that something that would be helpful?"
"Ah!" Arthur's voice pitched excitedly at this. "See, that's why you are perfect! One can't walk fifty feet in the mansion without finding a telepath. You're something special, and not just because you're poised, brilliant, well manicured, and have an impeccable sense for filing. You see things others don't. It is my hope that you'll catch a detail about what's going on that Haller or Quentin might not."
"I do not think my sense for filing is going to help here, but I will try to get whatever information I can for you." Hope glanced around the room. "Not here though. Would the alcove work for you?" In the alcove, a quiet out of the way corner outfitted with a recliner, her body would at least be comfortable when she ghosted out for however long this would take. "Or is there something else you require?"
She got an eager nod in answer, his blonde hair bobbing along as his eyes drifted over to the corner. "All I need is an object. Haller suggested that I only work with items I know, so," his gaze led over to his desk, to where a messenger bag sat ready to offer said known quanta. "Do you need anything in particular? White noise? Pillows? Also," he added seriously as it popped straight to mind, "Never devalue your ability to file."
"A comfortable place is always helpful." Hope explained as she rose and headed to the alcove. "That is why I had Warren get the recliner for when I was working out of the office. There are a few pillows there though if you wish to sit or you might wish to grab a chair."
Arriving there the recliner was luckily still set to her preferences and without ado she took off her shoes before settling back in the recliner. It only took a moment to become comfortable and as soon she closed her eyes the flower unfolded in her mind's eye. Hope's pearly ghost formed next to the recliner. 'Does this work for you?' she sent as she studied the current state of Arthur's aura.
She was treated to the aura-outlined shape of the man giving her an enthused thumbs up. "So far so good!" Arthur stopped, then, his emotions shifting toward curiosity and confusion as the gesture wilted a little. 'SO FAR SO GOOD?' he tried to think intently, like someone who had never seen a microphone before speaking into it for the first time.
Soft yellow flares radiated out from her coworker, but bright shimmers of orange of interest and anticipation sometimes nearly clouded his nerves. 'You can just speak normally, Arthur.' Hope easily deduced what he had tried to do from the blanking of his eyes and his focused expression. 'I can only send thoughts, not receive... Are you ready to get started?'
'YE---'
"Yes! Definitely." Arthur squinted carefully, briefly entranced by what seemed to be a pearly ghost in the air next to him. A curious look was exchanged from said ghost and back to the prone Hope. He tilted his head, yellow washing out to a curious purple. "Have to admit, Hope. This is really cool. You might have been right about filing."
'Just one important question before we get started... Are you able to communicate at all when you are under the thrall of the impressions? Like if they change?'
His aura deepened to an orange. "That's never actually come up! I had an idea to start small, though. A simple object."
'That makes sense. Do you think you could try to let me know if something significant changes, either vocally or by gesture? That way might enable us to match my impressions with what you are experiencing.' Hope commented, using the time to get familiar with the natural shifts in his aura, observing the tiny sparks of purple and deep pink now flashing all over his aura.
"Got it. We should have a code word or hand sign. All the best friends have those." The eager tone in his voice was only complimented with the implied 'I'm leaving that choice to you, best friend' upturn at the end of the statement.
Hope couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from turning up in a slight smile. He was really kinda adorable. "What would you like to use though to signal when the shift happens?"
"Well, my hands will be holding a thing. I might not be able to speak? Maybe a foot tap or a little dance?"
'I would suggest you stay seated.' Hope 'tilted' her head a little. 'Let's keep things as simple as possible. How about you simply wiggle your foot?'
A couple stritches striches of a chair dragging across the floor and Arthur was seated. He'd also taken the chance to grab his bag. It sat in his lap, and his gloved fingers tapped nervously on top of it. This was it. His shoulders tightened, expression hardening with resolve. "Foot, able to be wiggled. Object, fetched. Are we ready?"
His aura flared equally yellow and orange as he set his hands on the bag. Hope noticed in the back of her mind as she spoke: "I am ready."
The aura shape reached into a bag and retrieved a smaller than palm-sized object. Then it flared, unfolding like a fractal flower.
Different shades of yellow unfolded from where Arthur was holding the object, though multicolor strands of soft pink, pale green, sandry brown and an almost lilac purple seemed to wrap around them, almost strangeling the yellow.
A basement. Files were always in the basement, afterall. A wave of apprehensiveness squashed by a need to remain cool, calm, witty — control was about showing razor wit, but it was also something helpfully bolstered by reminding herself how clever this all was. Luck was a decent smokescreen.
She didn't need it.
A voice, as she worked. "You mean my sparkling personality and rapier wit haven't already dazzled you, Mr. Smith?"
Small victories with each key-stroke since there was nothing like a job well-done. Then...
The colors fought each other for a moment, only to be utterly washed away by a wave of deep green and pink that seemed to represent some form of utter joy.
Triumph. A wave of jubilation washed away any lingering doubts that SHIELD might be too secure.She'd done it again. She was Susan Storm.
"We're good to go."
And then... as sudden as the colors had begun, they were sucked back into the object, leaving only Arthur's orange and yellow streaked aura behind.
Placing the object on the table, the orange man gazed over at the ghost floating near Hope's unconscious form. "So," he ventured, "Anything interesting?"
"Just let me slip into my body first..." The flower petals in her mind closed as Hope slipped back into her body. The shift was almost so fluent nowadays that it only took a moment to open her eyes. "That was interesting to observe..." She commented once she sat up. "I am no expert, but I believe it is safe to say that the emotions tied to the object affect you directly. The colors unfolded directly into your aura, albeit with an unusual pattern... Does this match your personal experience at all?"
This got an eager nod. "I'm not sure what an unusual aura feels like, but that sounds really smart."
Hope gave him a small smile: "However, once you break your connection or link to the object, the emotions also quickly vanish... it's not like an event in real life, where traces of emotions can linger for days or even weeks."
"Huh," he underscored with puppy dog eyes and a disappointed shrug really effectively underscored the 'huh,' "That's almost exactly what it feels like. Except for the other feelings."
"You mean your own emotions? Only the foreign emotions linked to the objects in question disappear that quickly. Your own emotions as stirred by the visions behave just like your natural emotions." Hope tilted her head a little. "My apologies, I should have made that distinction immediately."
Arthur's wide eyes narrowed in thought, like he was searching the wall immediately behind Hope for the right words. "Have you ever felt like the universe was urging you toward doing something? Like that. A pull."
"Not like you are describing." Hope studied him for a moment before adding: "What are you being pulled towards? Or what is it asking you to do?"
"That's a mystery!" This was delivered entirely chipperly, like the man couldn't wait to find it out. "I am discovering that feelings and psionic powers don't come with instructions."
"I am afraid you have lost me, Arthur." Hope narrowed her eyes and studied him for a moment. "When is it especially when you feel that pulling sensation?" She could not help it... something felt iffy here.
All she got was another shrug. "Exactly! Mysteries. But..." He rummaged a little, producing both a notebook and a small micro-recorder. The notepad was turned open in reference. "Looks like those types of visions only come from new objects and not the ones I've felt before. Huh."
"That is an interesting nuance..." Her eyes narrowed further. "Arthur, have you spoken to any other people about how this new ability is affecting you? I know you mentioned Mr. Haller, but what are their impressions of it?"
"Haller," and it didn't even occur to him that he wasn't thinking of the man as David anymore, "Has been very helpful since he can see the things I see. He recommended trial and error with safe, known objects. Marie-Ange's advice was keeping detailed logs, but she encouraged touching many things."
That was perfectly fair advice, especially from what she'd seen herself from psi training. "Frankly Arthur, some of what you said worries me a little, but it is mostly a gut instinct."
Arthur's face melted into something slightly affronted, if only by being the cause of anything frank. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he deflected, "That is the last thing I wanted."
Hope threw him a slightly sharp look. "Arthur, you are not causing me stress. You are my teammate and you asked for my observations. I have seen enough psi abilities to know that they can come with concerns. Please just be careful."
"I appreciate your insight, Hope," he offered. "As a teammate and a friend. I'm not sure, however, how to be any more careful with this than I am. Do you have any suggestions?"
"I am not an expert, Arthur, and all I have is a gut feeling." Frustration flickered over her face as Hope demurred. "I wish I could offer you more."
She received a long, exhausted sigh in response as Arthur slumped into a nearby chair. "It has been difficult. I am not sure how real empaths do it. That drive was a safe one — just Sue's memories from years ago. But we deal with folks much less..."
"... with people with far less savory memories." Hope easily finished his sentence, but her eyes widened a little quickly as a thought occurred to her. "Did you remember Ms. Frost? There might be notes around from how she trained her psychometry."
"Funny story," Arthur added, "Haller says that what I'm doing is very different from Adrienne. Which? Honestly a relief." There was a shrug with that. "She didn't seem to get any emotional feedback. Just a lot more information. I shouldn't be held responsible for that."
Ignoring the last bit, Hope tilted her head: "When I first came here, I trained with two other young psi's. While not all material was applicable to all three of us, there was still much we did share. It could be a resource of idea's to test at least. All three of us learned various exercises to stay grounded and maintain our sense of self for one. Something similar might be found there for you."
Arthur considered only for a moment, "I would be delighted to learn. Please, show me."
