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xp_logsAfter two weeks in a coma, action is taken to wake the Wormhole's latest ejectee.
As telepathic contact went, the sensation was gentle. Questing fingers running across her mental walls in search of a chink. So many others had simply tried to break down the door; this one was barely more than a hand testing a doorknob.
In the end, though, it didn't matter how politely a stranger attempted to enter your room: someone was still attempting to trespass.
"Wait, I think she's –"
There was nothing slow or gentle about their guest's awakening. One moment she was asleep, and the next launching forward into consciousness, all fury at whoever dared to enter her mind. The girl sat up with a start, gasping with a violence, but her rage quickly turned to confusion as she took in her surroundings, and slowly a primal fear.
"Easy," said Jim, quickly withdrawing his telepathic probe and leaning away from her bedside to give the young woman space. "You're safe here –"
Her eyes finally landed on Namor, and a recognition of her past encounter with him kicked her into gear. She yanked out the IV poking from her arm, but muscles just awoken from a coma didn’t go far. Less than gracefully, she tumbled to the floor and scrambled the few feet to the back wall of the small room.
“Nobody is going to hurt you,” Meggan softly assured her, momentarily pausing in the act of moving forward to help. She didn’t want to just rush over and pull her back over to the bed, since that could just make everything so much worse. “We just want to figure things out and help you feel better . . .”
After inching further just a little more, she crouched down low until she was on the same general level, resting on one knee. She kept her hands in view, to show that they were empty of any type of threatening object.
“He was telling the truth; you’re safe here.” Meggan hoped that her tone could get through a bit of the panic emanating from their visitor, even if there was always the likelihood that she might not even be able to understand their language. She was still far enough back that she hoped she wouldn’t be crowding the other girl, and just aiming to sound as soothing as she could.
It would be a lie to say the muscular man standing behind both soothers didn't straighten a little in pride at Gaia's reaction – small, pleased gestures in the set of his shoulders or the lines of his face. He enjoyed being feared. Still, Namor stood at rest.
"Rest assured you were not pursued through the causeway," he said slowly, voice holding the same confidence as his body language, confident and sure in his own authority. "The portal has been closed."
The two voices were little more than background noise to the girl’s panic. Her powers weren’t working. Whatever she was attempting to will to happen wasn’t happening.
She finally identified the thing wrapped around her ankle. Metal that blinked and hummed lowly. A slow touch turned to incessant tugging as she tried to get it off. It didn’t budge.
The counselor started to raise a hand, then paused. Jack could stop her if he needed to, but something told him this girl wouldn't react well to being seized by an unseen force. He hadn't gotten much of her mind before she'd awoken. As a rule, he tried to keep his interventions to a minimum during an assessment. Still, what little he'd gleaned was . . . strange.
"That's a power dampener," Jim explained. dropping his hand. "We put it on you because your powers were activating while you were unconscious. It's only there to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself."
"English may be wasted on them," came from behind Jim. Namor waved a hand dismissively for no one but himself. "We consulted you to bridge that gap mind to mind, David Haller. There have been more than enough soft words already."
Jim shook his head. "I can make myself understood and facilitate understanding, but I can't upload languages, and now that she's conscious I'm not going into her mind without permission. Besides, she had such a strong reaction to my probe I don't want to push if I don't have to." His eyes didn't leave the girl, but he turned his head in the empath's direction. "I think she's more confused than aggressive. Meggan?"
“That’s about right, yes,” Meggan confirmed with a nod; it was only with reluctance that she briefly took her eyes off the other girl. She couldn’t help but sympathize. There was a lot of stuff stuck together there that was difficult to untangle as she looked, too, but she would try to put it into words.
“It’s more of a roiling, simmering cloud of everything from her,” she continued. “Confusion and fear mixed together, and all the stuff that would crop up in an unknown situation...but I think it’s more of the reactive kind of aggression that’s ‘flee from the danger zone, protect yourself, escape the dampener’ kind, and none of the ‘doom for all, heads on a platter’ brand.” At least, not that Meggan had spotted. She hoped there wasn't that sort coming.
Tugging turned to clawing, sharp nails scratching the delicate skin around the inhibitor. Eyes darted between the three as they conversed, but she was mostly focused on getting this thing off. Attempting to bash it against the cold floor didn't do much, neither did hitting it with a fist. It was all too much. The room was too small and the voices too loud and her powers were gone and her breathing was getting heavier as tears of frustration welled up.
"How convenient," Namor growled, "for you to prioritize your own comfort under the guise of consent." Despite the tone, Gaia's reaction to him had not gone unnoticed. The man's voice softened into more cautious tones as he held his hands wide and backed up to create more distance between himself and the captive. His reprimand, however, continued. "We," and the royal capital was crisper than usual, "had no choice upon waking in this age before there was a white goddess offering to play translator in Our head. Better to have a choice than to be left to suffer in rage and confusion."
Jim shook his head. "If we have to, we have to. But we try the slow way first. I won't give her something else to fear."
The telepath moved no closer. Instead he merely knelt where he was, putting himself at her level, and closed his eyes.
His physicality changed. His posture became straighter, more confident, and when his eyes opened again they had bleached to grey. Jack watched the girl struggle for a moment, then nodded.
"Lots has happened. You don't know where you are, or who we are. Maybe don't even understand what we're saying. But if you do, know we didn't take you. You came to us. If it's because you need help, we'll give it." His words were slow and soft, like a man trying to calm a spooking horse. With uncharacteristic subtlety, the alter wrapped a telekinetic field around the inhibitor. It was tight to the equipment, barely noticeable, but enough to keep her from ripping her fingernails or tearing her skin as she clawed. He cut his eyes to Meggan.
“Hey. Sometimes people and things just cross over. We’ll give you whatever help we can, though; whatever you need,” Meggan carefully relayed to her. She remembered what it was like to be lost and afraid and unable to properly communicate long ago. It was a terrible situation to be in, even if this was a completely different level.
If there was a way to reach her, they needed to find it; Meggan offered her hand, not sure if it would be understood or even taken; hoping the anxiety wasn’t too oppressive to crack through.
The girl made a sad little sound, worn out from too much exertion too quickly. In a movement of desperation, she abandoned the inhibitor and reached out to grab Meggan’s hand. Tears spilled over, pulling tracks down her face. So quiet it could barely be heard, she whispered “Help.”
Meggan was briefly surprised, but grateful that she understood something of the language; even if it turned out to only be a single word, it was progress. She squeezed her hand, nodding. “We’ll try our best; I promise we will.”
As telepathic contact went, the sensation was gentle. Questing fingers running across her mental walls in search of a chink. So many others had simply tried to break down the door; this one was barely more than a hand testing a doorknob.
In the end, though, it didn't matter how politely a stranger attempted to enter your room: someone was still attempting to trespass.
"Wait, I think she's –"
There was nothing slow or gentle about their guest's awakening. One moment she was asleep, and the next launching forward into consciousness, all fury at whoever dared to enter her mind. The girl sat up with a start, gasping with a violence, but her rage quickly turned to confusion as she took in her surroundings, and slowly a primal fear.
"Easy," said Jim, quickly withdrawing his telepathic probe and leaning away from her bedside to give the young woman space. "You're safe here –"
Her eyes finally landed on Namor, and a recognition of her past encounter with him kicked her into gear. She yanked out the IV poking from her arm, but muscles just awoken from a coma didn’t go far. Less than gracefully, she tumbled to the floor and scrambled the few feet to the back wall of the small room.
“Nobody is going to hurt you,” Meggan softly assured her, momentarily pausing in the act of moving forward to help. She didn’t want to just rush over and pull her back over to the bed, since that could just make everything so much worse. “We just want to figure things out and help you feel better . . .”
After inching further just a little more, she crouched down low until she was on the same general level, resting on one knee. She kept her hands in view, to show that they were empty of any type of threatening object.
“He was telling the truth; you’re safe here.” Meggan hoped that her tone could get through a bit of the panic emanating from their visitor, even if there was always the likelihood that she might not even be able to understand their language. She was still far enough back that she hoped she wouldn’t be crowding the other girl, and just aiming to sound as soothing as she could.
It would be a lie to say the muscular man standing behind both soothers didn't straighten a little in pride at Gaia's reaction – small, pleased gestures in the set of his shoulders or the lines of his face. He enjoyed being feared. Still, Namor stood at rest.
"Rest assured you were not pursued through the causeway," he said slowly, voice holding the same confidence as his body language, confident and sure in his own authority. "The portal has been closed."
The two voices were little more than background noise to the girl’s panic. Her powers weren’t working. Whatever she was attempting to will to happen wasn’t happening.
She finally identified the thing wrapped around her ankle. Metal that blinked and hummed lowly. A slow touch turned to incessant tugging as she tried to get it off. It didn’t budge.
The counselor started to raise a hand, then paused. Jack could stop her if he needed to, but something told him this girl wouldn't react well to being seized by an unseen force. He hadn't gotten much of her mind before she'd awoken. As a rule, he tried to keep his interventions to a minimum during an assessment. Still, what little he'd gleaned was . . . strange.
"That's a power dampener," Jim explained. dropping his hand. "We put it on you because your powers were activating while you were unconscious. It's only there to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself."
"English may be wasted on them," came from behind Jim. Namor waved a hand dismissively for no one but himself. "We consulted you to bridge that gap mind to mind, David Haller. There have been more than enough soft words already."
Jim shook his head. "I can make myself understood and facilitate understanding, but I can't upload languages, and now that she's conscious I'm not going into her mind without permission. Besides, she had such a strong reaction to my probe I don't want to push if I don't have to." His eyes didn't leave the girl, but he turned his head in the empath's direction. "I think she's more confused than aggressive. Meggan?"
“That’s about right, yes,” Meggan confirmed with a nod; it was only with reluctance that she briefly took her eyes off the other girl. She couldn’t help but sympathize. There was a lot of stuff stuck together there that was difficult to untangle as she looked, too, but she would try to put it into words.
“It’s more of a roiling, simmering cloud of everything from her,” she continued. “Confusion and fear mixed together, and all the stuff that would crop up in an unknown situation...but I think it’s more of the reactive kind of aggression that’s ‘flee from the danger zone, protect yourself, escape the dampener’ kind, and none of the ‘doom for all, heads on a platter’ brand.” At least, not that Meggan had spotted. She hoped there wasn't that sort coming.
Tugging turned to clawing, sharp nails scratching the delicate skin around the inhibitor. Eyes darted between the three as they conversed, but she was mostly focused on getting this thing off. Attempting to bash it against the cold floor didn't do much, neither did hitting it with a fist. It was all too much. The room was too small and the voices too loud and her powers were gone and her breathing was getting heavier as tears of frustration welled up.
"How convenient," Namor growled, "for you to prioritize your own comfort under the guise of consent." Despite the tone, Gaia's reaction to him had not gone unnoticed. The man's voice softened into more cautious tones as he held his hands wide and backed up to create more distance between himself and the captive. His reprimand, however, continued. "We," and the royal capital was crisper than usual, "had no choice upon waking in this age before there was a white goddess offering to play translator in Our head. Better to have a choice than to be left to suffer in rage and confusion."
Jim shook his head. "If we have to, we have to. But we try the slow way first. I won't give her something else to fear."
The telepath moved no closer. Instead he merely knelt where he was, putting himself at her level, and closed his eyes.
His physicality changed. His posture became straighter, more confident, and when his eyes opened again they had bleached to grey. Jack watched the girl struggle for a moment, then nodded.
"Lots has happened. You don't know where you are, or who we are. Maybe don't even understand what we're saying. But if you do, know we didn't take you. You came to us. If it's because you need help, we'll give it." His words were slow and soft, like a man trying to calm a spooking horse. With uncharacteristic subtlety, the alter wrapped a telekinetic field around the inhibitor. It was tight to the equipment, barely noticeable, but enough to keep her from ripping her fingernails or tearing her skin as she clawed. He cut his eyes to Meggan.
“Hey. Sometimes people and things just cross over. We’ll give you whatever help we can, though; whatever you need,” Meggan carefully relayed to her. She remembered what it was like to be lost and afraid and unable to properly communicate long ago. It was a terrible situation to be in, even if this was a completely different level.
If there was a way to reach her, they needed to find it; Meggan offered her hand, not sure if it would be understood or even taken; hoping the anxiety wasn’t too oppressive to crack through.
The girl made a sad little sound, worn out from too much exertion too quickly. In a movement of desperation, she abandoned the inhibitor and reached out to grab Meggan’s hand. Tears spilled over, pulling tracks down her face. So quiet it could barely be heard, she whispered “Help.”
Meggan was briefly surprised, but grateful that she understood something of the language; even if it turned out to only be a single word, it was progress. She squeezed her hand, nodding. “We’ll try our best; I promise we will.”
