xp_logs | Nathan and Forge, Sunday afternoon (Reply)

At Moira's request, Forge stops by to help Nathan with a 'computer interface'. When he gets there, he finds out what she meant. He quickly comes up with a solution so that Nathan will able to read and use the journals, and the two of them actually manage to have their first relatively friendly conversation.

He loved Moira for many reasons, Nathan thought almost happily, but the fact that she'd found him 'The Hunt For Red October' on CD was a particular reason for adoration today. Propped up in bed, he had an earphone in one ear listening to the book, leaving the other ear free to listen for knocks at the door or Bella destroying something.

Forge paused at the door to Nathan's suite. The guy was a telepath, he probably already KNEW he was there. But knocking was probably polite anyway. Maybe he would be asleep. That'd be the easiest. Moira had asked Forge to stop by and see if he could help Nathan with a computer interface, which seemed rather odd. But interface design was one of his specialties (one of dozens, he reminded himself) and his apprehension at dealing with Nathan was overruled by that inner voice that reminded him that he could do something really impressive with his mutant gift and probably score some points with folks in the process. Hopefully enough to make them forget about Las Vegas.

He knocked lightly on the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind, wary of thinking things too loudly that would upset Mr. Dayspring.

Nathan heard the knock and fumbled to find the off button on the CD player. "Come in," he called, his voice still gravelly and rough from all the coughing. It would be for a while, he suspected. He heard the door open, yet there was no immediate answer, and he couldn't help tensing a little. Damn it, he wished his telepathy would come back. "Who's there?" he asked, staring in the general direction of the door.

Forge opened the door and peered in. He looked back and forth, didn't see Nathan at his desk or in any of the chairs. Right, Moira had mentioned he'd been in the medlab. Taking a deep breath, Forge peered around the corner into the bedroom. Seeing Nathan seated up in bed with the CD player next to him, Forge waved. "Just me, Mr. Dayspring. Doctor MacTaggart said I could help you with a computer interface..."

He noticed Nathan's head panning slightly, his eyes not seeming to focus. "Um, Mr. Dayspring?" Forge asked, "You okay? Do you need me to get the doctor?"

Forge? Computer interface? Then it struck him what the young man was talking about, and Nathan couldn't help a smile. He had a very clever fiancee. "I'm okay--well, not okay, I'm actually blind as a bat at the moment... can't read the journals, obviously. I guess that's what Moira probably meant..."

"Blind?" Forge was puzzled. "Are we talking like normal human headblind or complete Ray Charles here? You..." he noticed that Nathan was casually rolling his head from side to side, probably to get a better track on where Forge was standing by his voice. Interesting. "It's not permanent, is it? I mean - this is just temporary, right?"

"The telepathy should be back soon. Vision might take a while longer." There, Nathan thought, focusing on the source of Forge's voice. "Long enough to make it really awkward, not being able to read the journals..."

"Journals, right. Well, it looks like you've got the standard computer setup everyone else has..." Forge began thinking out loud. "I've got my own speech-to-text dictation software that works very well for input, but for output - I don't suppose you read Braille?"

"No," Nathan said a bit dryly. "First time I've been blind... well, first time I've been totally blind." He couldn't help a bit of a sigh, remembering the last time. Even being stuck in TK-vision would be preferable to this.

Forge nodded, then realized Nathan had no way to see it. "Well then," he began, "audio it's going to have to be. Since according to the access logs, you're on a few of the secured channels - staff, and another unnamed one, this ought to have a headphone setup. So you're not broadcasting stuff to anyone who happens to be standing in the room, you know."

Tapping his fingers together, Forge paced from the bedroom to the 'den' area and back again. "In fact, I could probably rig you up a remote using a wireless connection. Simple voice-interface web stuff. Slow, rewind, repeat, stuff like that. Like one of those court recorder things. Don't know if I can get voice samples from everyone to match text to individual voice, but I can try and improvise. Cataracts or neural damage? The blindness, I mean."

The question took him by surprise, as he'd been paying attention to Forge's technical rambling and trying to envision what it would involve from the user's standpoint. "Uh... neural damage," Nathan muttered. "Doing... first aid, guess you'd call it. Pushed my TK too hard."

"Damn," Forge breathed, hoping his retinal-projection project would have come in handy. Still, audio it was going to be. "Well, I can have a voice interface set up for you by this evening. Shouldn't be too hard to fix it to work with the email system as well. You won't be able to use the encrypted systems, because I don't have access to those, but if this is just temporary, well, it'll just be temporary." He paused, cracking his knuckles nervously. "First aid, you said? So... nothing that happened the other week while we were in Las Vegas, then?"

He could get Moira to read anything on the staff journal for him, he supposed, and the team journal... well, he didn't really need to worry about that for now, did he? Then the implication of Forge's question about Las Vegas hit him, and he frowned slightly. "No, nothing about Vegas..." The kid sounded almost nervous. "There was a training accident." Would the kids know anything about that? He didn't know who'd said what. Nathan offered a smile. "Helping out after needed... a new trick with my TK. One I won't be doing again anytime soon."

"Because, I know you were stressed about stuff, and what with the concussions and all-" Forge broke off, trying to phrase himself better, "I mean, you've had problems with your powers before like you'd said, but you were able to hold it together out there. And, you know, it's not really any of my business but - how do you do it? Keep control of that much power and still be able to function?"

It was a fair question, and Nathan thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer it. "Harder some times than others," he said, reaching out carefully until his fingers came into contact with the water bottle on the nighttable. He paused to take a sip before he went on. "Control's not always quite there. The furniture rattles when I get angry, that sort of thing..." He grimaced slightly. "I don't know... if you asked around, after we talked that first time." There were enough of the kids who knew the basics about his past that he hoped Forge no longer doubted whether he was telling the truth about that, at least. "But I had some fairly... strenuous initial training. Not learning how to use it as a... tool--" Tool. Not weapon. "--wasn't an option."

Forge had done enough asking around that he could basically guess Nathan's background. "I know you were a ... soldier, I guess. Something with the government. And from what you've said, doesn't sound like it was exactly voluntary." He had a sudden epiphany, one that chilled him to the bone. "I can guess if they thought you were expendable, they probably wouldn't worry about the harm a power like that could do, huh?"

"So long as it didn't put me out of commission, no, they didn't." Nathan smiled very faintly. "It's why I like it here so much, you know. Getting to see--" All right, he was not liking that turn of phrase very much these days. He tried again. "Training here, for you students... it's not without its wrinkles, or accidents, but it's so different. Better all around."

Forge nodded again, then smacked his palm against his forehead, remembering Nathan couldn't see the gesture. "Can't argue with you there. I remember when I started building things, I read through my dad's aeronautics textbooks in a week, and built a working model biplane out of a blender motor and some cardboard. When they found out I was a mutant, they took me in for all these tests to see if it was going to give me a brain tumor or something." He snorted loudly. "Here, it's different. I mean, you guys don't push me or tell me to hold back because I make someone else look bad." He smiled, despite knowing he was the only one to see it. "I like that."

Clapping his hands, he walked over to Nathan's computer, checking out the dimensions of the desk. "Okay," he called back, "I'll need to grab a spare wireless hub from the tech closet and get cracking on those speakers for you. Should be easy to find an omnidirectional microphone - I swear, this place is a communication geek's paradise on that score. I can have it ready by," Forge checked his watch, "dinner?"

"That'd be great." To be able to catch up on what had been going on all week would be more than great, actually. "I... really appreciate this, Forge," Nathan said as steadily as he could. "Feeling kind of isolated here." He tried to smile again. "Not being able to see is bad enough, but without my telepathy... everything feels so flat."

"I can't imagine what..." Forge paused. Yes he could. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and sat on the end of it, looking at the wall over Nathan's head. "When I woke up in the hospital, I could kind of get that my leg was gone. I mean, it's what, twenty percent of your body weight, they tell me? You kind of notice it's missing. But when I looked down and tried to figure out where my hand was," Forge eyed his prosthetic with a blank face, flexing it into a fist, "I couldn't get it. It was like, I still felt it there, you know? It was like I could feel myself trying to move it, but there was nothing."

He shrugged, then stood up. "Maybe it's not like that. But yeah, I think I know what you're going through. As much as any of us headblind folks can. But hey," he added, "your wife's fuckin' brilliant, man. If anyone can get you fixed, she can. Me," he laughed, "I can just fix your computer."

Nathan grinned suddenly, almost mischievously. "I'm marrying up," he said lightly, then grew more serious. "Thanks," he said, as levelly as he could with his voice as bad as it was. "I owe you one. It's the little things that keep one from going stir-crazy at times like this, and getting back on the journals would probably be a lot more healthy than listening to daytime TV."

Forge snorted loudly. "Doubt THAT one. But yeah, I know from stir-crazy. I'll see what I can do." With an unseen wave, Forge headed for the door. Before he left, he stuck his head back in one more time. "And for the record," he added, "those voices in your head? Still fucking creepy."

The conversation had left him in a good enough mood that Nathan merely smiled and waved in Forge's general direction, almost in a half-salute. He could have the last word, Nathan decided. Just this once.