2012-09-07 Dance Dance Zenolution

Music is still something the Girls are still working on. Other people have fun going to clubs, the girls go and study... but it's starting to become fun. |"Brooklyn tonight?"| |"Yes."| Sophie is reading the flyer for all of them. |"Hip Hop In The House."| |"It's spelled wrong,"| Phoebe notes from where she's researching tiny earbud communications devices and the like. |"That's on purpose,"| Esme points out. |"Nerd."| |"Ho."| |"Stop it."| |"Killjoy."| |"Meanie."| |"If we don't get our scans done we can't go."| Sophie puts her mental foot down.
The gestalt surrenders to itself with a sigh, blending until the voices are one and stepping into the Astral behind Sophie's form--no one else can tell whose body is whose, but they know. They walk the Astral, marking the glows and flares of other telepaths, their own shape shrouded in a mist. Nothing to see here. Move on. 
They wander a familiar route until-- |"What is that?"| the gestalt asks itself. |"It was in the distance the other day, remember?"| Distance in the Astral is defined differently, but distant it was. |"Let us see..."| The gestalt turns off its familiar course and heads for the strange presence they've sighted. 
|"Ommmmmm"| Zen has been meditating for hours. Priority one, his body heals ten times faster this way as his mind accelerates the regeneration process. By now, his leg is essentially repaired, and all of the smaller cuts and bruises are completely gone. And then, almost accidentally, as he drifts through the planes of consciousness, when he reaches the 6th plane, he finds contact with his Master all the way back on Om. Both sides of the conversation echo through his consciousness as his ship rests in a geostationary orbit above the American eastern seaboard. 
|"Yes, Zen, what do you need help with?"| |"What do you mean Master,"| the less echo-y mind asks. That mind is relatively very close, but as pointed out already - distance here is strange. |"I don't /only/ contact you when I need help..."| |"Zen..."| |"Yes, Master, I'm sorry. But for real this time. I was just meditating to heal my body, and I /slipped/ into the 6th plane."| Zen mind sounds excited by this fact, and his Master's response sounds proud. |"Zen, we are happy for you. That shows growth, and progress. Now, have you finished your time with the earthlings?"| |"Oh no, Master. They... are fascinating, really. They have heart, and are capable of terrible cruelty, but the ones who want to help... I've allied with some of them..."| 
The conversation goes on for several minutes, plenty of time for anyone aware enough to be listening in to pinpoint Zen's location and make mental contact after he 'hangs up' with his Master.
The gestalt lets the mist slide after Zen ends his communication, and there they stand in the Astral: one glowing blue female human shape flanked, if one is perceptive enough, by two very faint echoes of light which in their turn each have one more faint and fragile echo. |"Greetings."| By now the gestalt has determined that this is not a human and they are very curious. |"May we approach you?"| 
|"Oh, hello!"| Zen says, surprised, but apparently not worried enough. All telepaths are good, right? |"Please do. My name is Zen. Are you from Earth?"| His mind's presence gives away a lot about Zen. He's not as good at shielding himself, at least, not from someone like the triplets. His psyche is at least semi-revealed, and it's clear that he's grown so much admiration and affection for the human race that his astral form, though still very blue, has taken on a lot of human features, including a fifth finger on each hand, and the wisp of a nose and mouth on his face.
The girls are immediately worried about him being so open. |"In general terms, we are,"| the gestalt says. It's a little more complicated than that. |"But you are not and you are learning. We have been learning, also. It has taken us nearly two years to begin to understand and fit in."| 
Their gestalt mind brushes his, not simply sending thoughts. It is warm and gentle and far more complex than a human mind. It rolls around Zen and encloses him with them so that their thoughts are not to be shared with the Astral. Still, he has his space, and the way to depart is not blocked. 
|"Wow... whoa. That is..."| Zen reels in a way that is fun, like being slightly buzzed, and eventually pulls himself together. |"Then you see how interesting they are, right? They fascinate me. But I-"| Zen's astral form seems to take a breath, apparently another fantasy of his, and then he looks around. |"Wait, how are you doing that?"| 
The gestalt laughs, not unkindly. |"We are trained to do such things. To hide. To disguise. To hunt. To repair. We are simply ensuring that we do not draw the attention of others."| They take a moment to confer among themselves. |"Our area of concern is clear--we were simply patrolling our relevant territories. We must go to attend an event. Learning about music--we have only begun to grasp the nuances."| 
|"Oh, sorry. Am I trespassing? I've never encountered a telepath like you, and I didn't know there were territories."| He nods at the music reference though. |"Yeah, human music is fascinating. Especially because, physically, I 'hear' with my skin. I heard something called 'hip-hop' at one point. Fascinating. I almost can't follow the poetry, for the pounding rhythm, but I liked it very much."| 
The gestalt opts for their usual tactic of making friends. |"You may join us if you like."| Zen knows where they'll be soon, the information slipped into his mind like a business card slipped into someone's hand. |"We would be happy to see you there."| 
|"Thanks, that'd be great!"| Zen obviously enthusiastic. He's also a straight male of a species that is remarkably similar to humans, and an invitation like this is just fun. |"But... I've been keeping my distance, because I can't pass as human. Will it be safe for me to appear in public?"| 
|"We will ensure you are not seen by eyes, though we cannot prevent you from appearing on cameras that may be recording. We have not yet mastered the art of altering digital memories."| The girls do intend to master that some day. |"Simply reach for our minds when you arrive and we will conceal you."| 
Zen agrees immediately and rushes through his ship to reach his T-Pod. The ship blasts him from its hold, and the earth rushes up to meet him. 
Within minutes, he's landing on the roof of the club in question. Ok, that part's good. But, do they not have clubs on other planets? Zen is still wearing his tight pants, his yin-yang belt and no shirt. At least he doesn't have his photon staff with him. He jumps easily off the edge of the building and drops the three stories without any visible concern, and lands without a sound in the dark alley around the building from where everyone else is queueing up for the show. 
|"I made it, sorry for the wait. It's a long trip."| 
The girls are in a hotel not far away--keeping with their decision not to spend too many nights in Gotham in a row. They miss Remy and Laura, but it's more important to be safe. |"We are on the way."| Moments later, three tall young women in short white dresses come down the alley quite fearlessly. |"Someone will let us in by this door."| One of them gestures to a door that reads 'Exit Only.'
"Hello," one of them says when they get close enough. "We are Sophie, Esme, and Phoebe." "It's good to meet you." The one in front holds out her hand in greeting. 
Well for once, someone doesn't seem to have any trouble whatsoever telling the three women apart. They have a complicated self-image, but Zen sees at least one layer beyond the surface, and that's really enough to tell the difference. It's also why humans don't all look alike to him.
|"It's nice meet you."| He says. His mind wraps easily around the paradoxical reality of singular and plural, and his mental speech actually reflects that. He extends his four-fingered hand and shakes the offered hand, but mentally acknowledges all three of them.
"Come inside." The girls indicate the door as it opens and a young man holds it for them. |"You can see that you won't draw attention."| They show him something, himself through the eyes of the young man holding the door. He seems completely neutral, human, and normal. Just another person. |"Are you comfortable with this appearance?"| 
|"I... sure. Yeah. Thank you."| Zen's mind shows a lot more than 'comfortable'. Talk about wish fulfillment! He's not ashamed of his form, but it'd be fun for a night, at least. Following them inside, he asks, |"Can you make them think they're hearing me, as well?"| 
It'll take some work, but they can pull it off in a small club like this. |"We can do this with this many people, if you don't mind going through us."| One of the girls holds out her hand to him. Phoebe. She's got a particularly affectionate, gentle tint to her mind. "Let's go." 
Zen nods, |"Sure, that's fine."| He can't think of any reason why not, and extends his arm to Phoebe. He even tries it out as soon as they reach the bar. "Um, hi," he says, amused by the sensation of filtering his ideas through Phoebe. "Gin and tonic, please!" |"Oh no,"| he thinks to the three, |"I don't have any earth money..."| 
"Don't worry," Sophie says. She has a very strong mind, focused on structure and discipline. "We have more than we know what to do with." 
"We often help out friends out that way," Phoebe explains. "We'll make sure to give you some so you'll have it on hand." 
"Not that people want us to pay for things if we don't want them to," Esme notes. Her mind is similar to Sophie's in strength but rebellious and reactive. Somehow, the three of them fit together to make something more than they are separately. Esme reaches past to toss some bills onto the bar, then hands a folded stack to Zen. "We play a good many card games against bad people. We like to give it away." 
|"Ahh, very nice then. Guilt free!"| Zen grins at the stack of bills and tucks it into the belt no one else can see. Once he has his drink, and he's finally able to focus on the music, his mind becomes more and more pleased. It's pretty easy for him to mime drinking whilst disintegrating the liquid inside to absorb it telepathically, so he finds himself starting to move to the beat. He doesn't really understand the words, because they're recorded, so he can't pick up their intent, but the sound of it is fun. 
His movements are unfocused at first, but he's an excellent mimic of body movements. After watching the other males in the place for a bit, he starts to get a bit of sway in his hips.
"Come on." Esme holds out her hands. "We'll show you the other side of music."
They might be hiding Zen, but they're not hiding themselves. As such he's the subject of a rather different kind of scrutiny, the kind that comes from being an average, if pleasant-looking, young man in the company of three young women who look like the girls. It's perfectly possible that Zen could look like himself and it wouldn't arouse anything but envy and curiosity.
"People's minds are lovely when they listen to music," Sophie says, taking Phoebe's hand and leading her to the dance floor as the volume rises a little in the club and things warm up inside. 
The view the gestalt offers is of the swirl of emotions and thoughts and instincts of the dancers--the music filtered through human minds and bodies. Their training in telepathy allows them to parse it all in a way that makes sense without being overwhelming. 
Zen laughs mentally, but mainly because he doesn't really know how to do it out loud. Looking around, he picks up on all kinds of things the girls make clear to him. |"Hey, those men are jealous... Of /me/. Oh."| Their desires and intentions are so obvious with the current level of assistance, he's almost embarrassed. Almost. But apparently Zen is discovering a taste for this kind of attention. It's fun! 
|"I see what you mean. This is amazing."| He follows them to the dance floor, and works at following along with what he's picked up from the other men.
The girls are excellent dancers, having borrowed the knowledge from those around them. Somehow they manage to dance with Zen without getting in each others' way. And, as many looks as they get, there's no attempt to touch or harrass them. It's just about the music, which they're enjoying immensely. |"This music feels like cities,"| the gestalt points out. |"Cities and clubs and conversations."| |"We like it better than some other music."| 
Zen tries to tune in to their frequency as best he can. Even with telepathy as a shared first language, syncing with all three of them at the same makes his mind feel full. First, he takes a moment to absorb some of the dance techniques as well. He's already a ninja. Gettin' down in the club isn't that hard. 
Next, Zen tries to get a feel for the music the way the girls do. |"I like it too. It feels like... humans. And money. Cities, too - you're right about that."| He turns to some people dancing just outside the circle of women around him. "This is amazing!" he shouts to them. Which is just fun to do. They give him an awkward thumbs up and turn away again.
|"Feel this."| The girls show him one more level of feeling the music. It's a human thing, an endorphin rush full of oxytocin, all kind of joy and bonding. A drug that's produced in the human brain in response to things like this, everyone feeling the same beat, singing the same music in their heads, bodies moving in unison. It's very primal, very physical, a low note on the psychic scale. |"This is why we learned to understand music."| 
It's lucky for Zen that he doesn't breathe normally, because /this/ would be a show stopper. He loses himself for several minutes, dancing with the girls, and just engaging with the greater gestalt of the club they've belt to help him share in it. He doesn't want to speak, or even think coherently for fear of interrupting the sensation. 
After several songs, it's Zen's stamina that needs attending too, and he signals to the girls that he needs a break. His drink is empty, and he's seriously thirsty. |"Break for drinks?"| He sends to them, barely able to form coherent thoughts.
"Yes," the girls say, laughing. They take Zen's hands and lead him off the dance floor. |"Come on."| |"We don't drink much."| |"But you're welcome to it."| "The last thing we want to do is wear you out." 
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