2013.10.27 - Rising Phoenix

NOTE: This takes place after the events of 2013.10.24 - The Ad Hoc Muir Island Magical Intervention Squad
----
Well, Kwabena is no medic. He's only enough training to understand the basics, such as vital signs.
Vitals are improving.
With a short series of coughs, he walks over toward an analysis station. His arm is inserted into a small device, which scans his blood.
"Clean of all infections and diseases," speaks a synthetic voice.
"... Unbelievahble."
Out of everyone who ended up in ilsolation, it's very likely that Hope ended up /apparently/ being the one who was the least sick. At least at first. But then, once the X-Men who dropped them off left, well... She finally started to show signs of being sick. Again. Only this time the signs and symptoms weren't as bad. Heck, they even could of been to a different disease all together. But then, with the 'cure' that was brought in...
Well, she got of easy. And lucky. After all, if one person hadn't shown up when they did, she very well could of ended up as bad as everyone else, or worse. 
Thus, as Kwa is scanned and gets his results, the mutant mimic is sitting not too far off to the side, and at most lets out a small sniffle.
"No. Unbelievable is that we survived that fight." Pause. "Or most of us did. Compared to that, everything else /IS/ believable."
 
Rachel missed most of the worst bits of being infected with a host of unpleasant and life-threatening diseases through the simple expedient of being completely unconscious. Having fallen into a near-comatose state as soon as the initial evacuation from the remains of the Spire was accomplished, Rachel was nothing more than dead weight for the trip to Muir, and the subsequent isolation in quarantine.
Whoever's had to lug her around can probably blame a delayed reaction to having her link to the Phoenix Force severed, but whatever the reason, she'd been impossible to wake. At least until Nate's shout of 'They are alive!' and the psychic pulse that accompanied it. Rachel's eyes opened at that moment, and she hasn't closed them since.
She feels like she's been beaten up, her shoulder hurts abominably, but she's comparatively healthy.
And very sick of being cooped up.
Far too restless to sit, Rachel's pacing has brought her to hover by Kwabena as he gets his blood checked out. Hope gets a quick nod at her observation, and then Rachel returns to her theme. "Does this mean we can get OUT of here now?"
She hasn't said quite why she's so determined to get out. There are a couple of reasons. She doesn't like being confined is one.
The other is the dreams she had when she was under, and how clear her mind now is. As she has a dozen times before, she reaches for the warm, vague feeling of the Phoenix at the back of her mind, just to reassure herself it's still there.
The one advantage of brokering an alliance with Magneto, such as it is, is that Jean can move quickly about the globe because a) she doesn't have to worry about sneaking around by boat and b) she has access to the Brotherhood's sophisticated teleport network. Or, rather, a very, very small part of it. It's enough, though, that the trip from Genosha to Scotland was much easier for her that it was for her team. 
Leaving the teleporter at a small pub not far from the airport -- because it seemed the best 'neutral' place to leave him, rather than bringing him straight to Moira's door -- along with instructions that she'll meet him back here in a few hours, the newly resurrected telepath rented a car and drove it the rest of the way herself. Thus in the middle hours of a UK morning, she finds herself pulling up to the gates and identifying herself to the folks at the check point. 
"No, really," she tells the pugnacious Scotsman at the security point. "It's me." Before he even has a chance to voice his thought, she sighs. "Yeah, I know what they said. But, trust me..." He opens his mouth. She waves her hand, locking him with a direct look and giving a little 'push' against his mind. "'These are not the droids you're looking for. Move along.'"
Finally, she is waved through. 
At that point, she finds a place to park, and makes her way into the main building. It's likely that the telepaths in the group will detect the hubbub before the sound of it actually reaches the erstwhile containment wing. After all, Dr. Grey is known to these people. Their work and hers are closely integrated. There are regular vid-conferences, and everything! 
So, yes. There's an emotional wave of relief that sweeps along the corridor before her, not to mention the odd hug or two along the way. 
Jean's concentration isn't really on them, however. It's on the people she's most anxious to see. So, yes, her own awareness slips forward ahead of the rushing emotions, to brush over familiar minds and see for herself that everyone is actually okay. 
Thus, by the time she actually reaches the door and pushes through into the containment ward, her green eyes are shining and her footsteps are quick to meet both those who already anticipate her arrival and those who are instead entirely floored by it. 
"Thank God you're all okay," she says. 
Yeah, yeah. I know. Ironic, much?
In spite of the results, there's still something of a thousand-yard-stare in Kwabena's mismatched eyes when they turn to acknowledge Hope. What could he say about the fight? It was over. The numbness of loss has long since set in, and the burning hunger for vengeance has not yet snuck beyond the deepest places of his heart. It does show, however, in the fact that he has not changed out of his torn, tattered and singed X-Men uniform. Aside from a pair of off-white snow pants, that is.
"Yeah." The numbness is palpable in his voice. "Well. Now we've got a job to do. Friends to find. Wrongs to right." Stepping aside, he gestures for Hope to use the machine. "You're next."
Kwabena promptly moves over toward a reinforced case, designed to carry hazardous materials. Inside are four vials, each filled with a blood sample from each team member. "Not yet, Rach," he quips, dryly. "Magic spells and incantations aside, we've got to stick with protocol. Anodah 18 hours, minimum." He closes the case after examine it's contents, revealing the BIOHAZARD warning on its outer shell. It's latched and locked in three different places.
The set of keys suddenly clatters to the floor.
Kwabena blinks his eyes owlishly, wondering if, for a moment, he might be going mad. Perhaps Dr. MacTaggert's equipment was malfunctioning. Perhaps he used it wrong. There's nothing else that can justify the sense that creeps upon his mind, ever so gradually.
Either way, he's turned around and is looking straight at the main door when Jean enters. His mouth drops open, and for a moment, he just... stares.
"I hope it does." Hope admits with a glance towards Rachel, before she bites her lip. After all, to her... Hell, all of them being out of here would definitely be a good thing. But at the same time...
Well, let's not go there. At least not for the moment.
And /THEN/ Jean just has to walk in as Hope approaches that machine for her test. She's just starting to stick her arm in as she hears that voice and her head up and jerks around
"..."
Yeah. What can be said at /that/ sight? Not much really. The teenaged redhead lets her jaw drop for a moment or two before she mutters something.
"And I thought copying that guys powers like Nate told me too was good at making me feel better.... Dang Grandma..."
Yes. Hope did just say that 'word' towards Jean. But well, let's just say she has a reason for it right now. After all, considering what was said to her the first time Hope called Jean that...
 
That Rachel clearly isn't listening to Kwabena's answer to her question, which was more of a complaint anyway, isn't particularly odd. It's not the first time she's asked it after all, and she wasn't really expecting a different response.
That she doesn't start pacing again, probably whilst muttering something dark under her breath, is. Instead, she just remains standing where she is, eyes looking /through/ Kwabena, as if someone's just put her on 'pause'. She doesn't even look at Hope when she speaks, though at about that time her lips begin to curve, very slowly, into a smile.
Something's just brushed against her telepathic senses. Something she recognises immediately, and for a while believed she'd never feel again.
Jean's presence.
Rachel's head turns smoothly toward the door just in advance of it opening, and at the first sign of movement her smile becomes a grin, and she's already moving toward the glass partition that separates them from their visitor before that visitor is even properly in the room. Her own uniform having been gone (probably burned) when she woke up, she's dressed in nothing more imposing than some loaned jeans and a tee shirt. Hands splayed against the glass, the pain that shoots through her shoulder as soon as she raised her arm completely failing to register, Rachel gives a short, relieve laugh at Jean's simple words, shakes her head, and replies, "We are now."
And since they're separated, and Rachel /just/ has the presence of mind not to melt her way through the glass, Jean will feel the telepathic equivalent of a hug. Since Rachel's also conveniently 'forgotten' she's not really the other redhead's daughter at this point.
Her own relieved smile turning wry at the stares she gets, Jean meets Kwabena's stare with a gentle expression. ~ I'm here, Kwabena. ~ she reassures him telepathically. It's notoriously difficult, after all, to fake the feel of a telepathic mind -- though there are a few that might manage it. She, however, knows all the right buttons to push with Kwabena, something other telepaths can't necessarily say. All the scents and sounds of comfort and peace that she knows will trigger with him. She stirs them up in an effort to reassure him. 
And then arches a brow at Hope. "Don't call me Grandma," she tells the girl -- echoing what she'd said in that early conversation. She touches the girl's mind telepathically, too. ~ Glad you made it out in one piece, firecracker. ~ 
But, the sense of Rachel's mind, the song of the Phoenix in her, echoing back that larger symphony barely contained in the recesses of Jean's mind. Her face breaks into a grin and she closes her eyes at the sensation of the hug. Frankly, she kinda needs a hug, too. It's been a trying few days for her, too. So, she returns that sensation, even if the sense of being 'Mom' is still a little unsettling. Perhaps, between Nate and Rachel both, she's getting used to it. 
~ I'm sorry. ~ she tells the younger Phoenix, genuine, if gentle, remorse in her tone. ~ I didn't mean for any of this to happen... ~ It shouldn't have happened. She knows that. 
She lays her hands against the glass, tempted to push on through. But, she's a doctor. She knows better. And, if she's going to go back to the Institute today, she needs to stay in the clean room. 
"I'm just glad to see you all in one piece."
They stood in the center of an exploding star and lived. No small feat, that. 
Slowly, Kwabena's lingering shell-shock melts away, like wax subjected to a very hot flame. He goes right past disbelief, for surely Rachel and Hope have not lost their minds.
He doesn't rush the glass, however. He doesn't lower the quarantine in some typically reckless move. Instead, he simply closes his eyes and breathes a deep sigh of relief. Deeper still than he's expected, since the lingering effect of Amaya and Rain's incantations are fast healing them of their various ailments.
Opening his eyes, he flashes a damned near whimsical grin to Hope while finally approaching the glass with measured steps. A far more meaningful smile is given to Rachel, before he turns toward Jean.
There are any number of things he could say. Many of them rush to the surface, a jumble of thoughts that to any lesser telepath might be overwhelming. But one simple thought surfaces above them all, the memory of a person he's known longer than any of them, longer than any of the X-Men. It seems that for Kwabena, he's not given to spending much time on relief. Or perhaps he's simply too concerned with the lingering threats that have clearly not yet been dealt with.
His smile fades.
"Erik?" he asks, quietly, and with no shortage of concern. Concern over the answer, and ironically, concern for the man he's come to call an enemy.
Much like Kwa, Hope doesn't rush towards Jean either. She just sort of sits there. Yes she feels happy to see the eldest redhead here alive and in one piece. Heck, part of her is even over joyed. But she also tries to keep it in check. To keep some distance emotionally. Not that it's exactly hard to do considering how well she 'knows' everyone here (or to look at it a different way, doesn't know them).
"Hey, don't blame me for wanting to make sure. I've had my run in with clones in the past." is said, if only to help explain the 'Grandma' bit.
But still, she's happy. Maybe not as much so as Rachel or Kwa, but she's happy.
On the other hand, at the mention of 'Erik' there is a pause and a slightly tilted head, as she waits to hear the answer to that. After all, the last time she did see Jean...
 
Rachel feels her telepathic embrace returned. For a moment she closes her eyes and lets her head fall forward to rest against the glass as the restless energy that's been powering her drains away. Suddenly she feels every bruise, and that burn across her shoulder is /really/ throbbing. She only stays that way for a couple of seconds, though, before she raises her head and flashes Jean another grin, before dropping her hands to her sides and stepping back to get out of Kwabena's way. His smile is returned with an understanding nod, even as Rachel reaches out privately to Jean with her mind.
<< I know. You're forgiven. >> And her mental tone turns a bit impish. << But if you do it again? I'll find you and drag you back myself. Somehow. >> Impish to begin, rather more serious than she'd intended by the end.
Jean flashes a smile at Hope, and chuckles softly. She bows her head slightly at the private words Rachel sends to her. ~ Remind me to share it with you, sometime. ~ she tells the younger Phoenix. ~ You might need to know, one day. ~
Finally, however, she straightens some at Kwabena's question, rolling her head as if to stretch out knots in her shoulders. "Oh," she says dryly, "he's..." She clears her throat. "Fine." An image flashes through her mind that Rachel might pick up: The Master of Magnetism the last time she saw him -- hale, healthy, dark haired, and young. Oops? "Better than ever, in fact." She's not entirely thrilled by that, truthfully. But, at the same time... she couldn't have in truly clear conscious betrayed him. 
Especially since he's far more dangerous disembodied than not. 
"We've reached a detente," for lack of a better word, "he and I. We had... quite a bit of time to talk." All the time in the universe, actually. 
But she keeps the details of that particular adventure to herself, for now. 
"He said Sinister was using him. And I believe him. Where we were, there was no place for lies. So, he's agreed to help us hunt Sinister down." Her lips press together firmly. "I still wouldn't trust him entirely, but he'll keep his word as far as that goes."
Once they find him, however? Jean figures all bets are off. Yes, she'll wait and see. But, she does know Erik better than any of the others in this place. 
Even if he doesn't betray them, he'll spin it and walk way even more the international golden boy, if there's any way he can. 
Kwabena feels a much different reaction to Jean's news. And when it's over, will he stop there? He doesn't voice this, nor does he really expect or even want an answer. Instead, he simply leans to the side, letting his body rest its weight against the thick glass.
"We have to find Kurt," he breathes quietly. "We have to find him, stop him, and help him." He's tempted to launch into a briefing right there on the spot.
Instead, he suddenly pulls away from the window and coughs, violently, into his fist. Pete and his magical friends may have purged the lab and their bodies of disease, but the symptoms are still lingering. They will for another 24 hours.
The time for a briefing may have to wait.
Turning back to face Jean, his eyebrows rise in a slightly conspiratorial manner, but he doesn't share all that's on his mind. Instead, his once-glassy expression simply warms again. "It's good to see you, Jean." The words are quite heartfelt. She knew him better than most, and the words are worth repeating at least a thousand times.
Regardless, he turns and walks away, leaving Rachel and Hope some time to spend with family. His eyes return to that BIOHAZARD-labeled case, and the keys that fell before. Scooping down, he picks them up, then gently slides a gloved hand across the top of that case.
Gears... spinning.
There's a bit of a pause as Hope hears Jeans explanation. In fact as she hears it, it's enough to cause a bit of an odd look to cross her face. If either of the telepaths here were to even listen to the youngest redheads thoughts, they'd find that it's almost like there's a bit of a war going on internally within the timelost nomad.
"If you want help... Count me in." is said after Kwa says that they have to find 'Kurt'. "With finding you people, stopping Sinister, or Magneto. What ever you need with them."
Then there's a momentary, slight pause. After all, doing so opens her up to a whole lot of stuff that she's been trying to avoid.
"But... If you don't right now, but want it later on, you'll know where to find me."
Yeah. She says that. Hell, she feels like she has to. After all, she's not exactly a member of the X-Men. Or their school. But after the last night, with Magneto and SInister, some potential big names know what she looks like and that she's somehow connected to them, even if they might not know who she is or how she's connected to them. Heck, they might even assume that she is one of them...
And yet, as Shift walks away, there's a wince, before she glances over at Jean and Rachel, frowning.
 
Rachel's not shielding as comprehensively as she usually does, so Jean will feel the rush of intense curiosity that answers her offer. << I'd like that. >> She says, her tone one of amused understatement. She knows that Jean felt her reaction.
Unfortunately for Rachel, there are other things to discuss, which rank higher than prolonging her enjoyment of a pleasant reunion. A faint frown mars her expression as she picks up the image that Jean let slip, and she looks sharply around at the older redhead. Despite the implications of what she's seen, her first thought is that Jean's lucky she didn't end up her age, or even Hope's. Dragging herself firmly back on track with an effort, Rachel hops up to sit on one of the beds and listens.
"When Nate and I talked before, with Kwabena." Rachel says carefully, nodding to Shift. "We found we had something in common. From where we come from, Magneto was an ally, and a permanent one at that." She goes quiet, then shrugs and says it anyway. "Is it too much to hope he lost enough in... all this... to come over to our side?" Probably. And Rachel's not usually the optimist in any group.
She doesn't say any more on that hope, her eyes going to Kwabena as he talks about Kurt. His friend. Rachel silently agrees, but with no real ideas where to start, says nothing for the moment. Hope, though. Rachel doesn't need to be much of a telepath to know that Hope's got a lot on her mind. "We do, but... you've kinda painted a big target on yourself with what you've done for us already." Rachel will say it, even if Hope's trying not to. She looks toward Jean. "There's got to be something we can do about that. Keeping Hope at arm's reach isn't going to be safe for her or us."
"There are a lot of details we have to work out," Jean says to Kwabena, now. 
"Kurt... Talia, his daughter. Monet..." She's the whole reason Jean started this fool crusade into the Pale Man's lab in the first place. She gives a grim smile. "This is personal for all of us." 
She glances about the the room and at the three of them. "I'm going to head back to the Institute when I leave here. See if I can get a jump on some of it. If you come up with anything--" here, another smile,-- "I'm only a thought away." 
She glances to Hope. As far as she's concerned, the girl's proven herself. Will she be formally brought into the team? Perhaps not. Not for a while, at least. But, young as she is, she's proven enough of an ally to earn a spot at the table. "I'm not sidelining you," she says. "The fact is, Rachel's right. You're probably safer with us than without. You're a Summers. Even of you're not... genetically... a Summers." Or something like that. 
(After all, who really knows what that alternate Phoenix did, right? An let Sinister figure it out? Oy!) 
"So, you're as much in this as the rest of us." 
Sinister. Summers. Grey. And now the Harbingers. It's a mess. 
She steps back from the glass now. She gives a rueful smile. "I've known Erik Lehnsherr since I was 12 years old," she confesses, now. "He's always done what he thinks is right. He doesn't share the Professor's optimism or ideals, but he's easily as great a crusader. He's just... more militant." Huge concessions coming from her, actually. "Once upon a time, I even called him 'Uncle'. So don't any of you ever think that I don't know Magneto. Or, at least, that I haven't known him. We can trust him to do what he promises to do. We cannot trust him to do it in the way the Professor would do it. But, he will always fight for what he believes is right." A beat. Another grim smile. "Just as he will always have some angle in whatever he does that will benefit him. Cable was right about one thing: No matter what world you find him in, Erik Lehnsherr will always be a great man."
She sighs now, and places her hand on the glass once more. "I wish I could stay, longer," she says ruefully, now. "But, the sooner I get home, the sooner I can mobilize the rest and start looking at the intel Magneto has promised." In addition to whatever they've got already. A tight smile. "I'm going to see if the Professor can use Cerebro to any advantage for us, too." She'd try it herself, but, after everything she's been through? Best to leave it to the pro.
She presses a hand to the glass once more. "Hang in there. It's only one more day. Then, I'll see you at home." 
She lingers a moment, accepting their farewells and giving her own. But, in the end, she takes her leave, back to the city, back to the pub, and on to NYC and, finally, Westchester. 
Home.
Perhaps it's the word TRAITOR, still echoing in his mind, that prevented Kwabena from considering the very real possibility that Rachel just pointed out. He looks up from the case when she mentions it, and seems slightly taken aback. She was right, of course. This could very well be the turning point, the thing that brings 'his' time more in line with 'her' time, or 'Nate's' time, or... etcetera.
That being said, the momentary bout of hope is shaded. He knew not a thing about where Rachel comes from, but he understands it wasn't pretty. Magneto may have been on their side in that future, but at what cost?
Still, he can't argue with what she says about Hope. In fact, he agrees. A glance is given Hope's way, then fired back toward Jean with two upturned brows that signify agreement. However, there would come a time for those plans. "Be safe, Jean."
Once Jean has left, he releases a long sigh. The keys are rolled around in his hand for a moment, before he begins to disconnect them from the keychain, stowing one in his pocket before joining the others.
He offers a key to Rachel, then hands the third key to Hope. A symbolic gesture of including her, for it takes all three keys to unlock whatever is in that case. "When we get home, we staht with Bobby. He knows where Kurt was living. We also take what's in dat case--" He nods indicatively, "--to one of de most brilliant metahuman minds in de world. A man by de name of Reed Richahds. He's helped me before... I get de feeling he'd help us again."
Unlike the others, Magneto is an unknown to Hope. Thus she can't comment on him. And yet, as Jeans admission sinks in, there is a wince, even as the doctor and founding x-woman heads off.
On the other hand, there is a slight glance at Rachel, even as that statement and Jeans response to it finally registers.
"My staying away is mostly my choice. If this is my past, and I'm admitting that's an /IF/ then my being anywhere near you guys for too long is a problem. Not just for me, but for you. After all.... A certain someone might now I'm around right now, but not know it's /ME/. That is if they're even with you guys /yet/. And once they do find out about me... Well.... There's stuff they probably have to do first, before they go from being a friend and an ally to someone who's crazy, willing to kill babies, and to destroy the entire planet just to stop some potential future they know of. Or will know of. Or..."
She rubs her temples.
"Time travel. Always fun. Always a headache. At least you guys haven't noticed the history books yet."
On the other hand, as Kwa offers that key, it is accepted, and there's a slight nod. All though at the mention of Reed Richards, there is an odd smile that starts to spread across the teenagers face. It's almost as if the idea of talking to Dr. Richards might have its own appeal to her.
 
Jean might only be a thought away. And Rachel's a powerful enough telepath in her own right that being physically stuck in a glass box isn't the inconvenience that it is to her comrades-in-quarantine.
It seems to bother her more than Shift and Hope put together, though, and she looks at the door Jean left through for a good few seconds after she's gone, as if she's seriously considering following her. It's probably a good thing that Hope breaks her train of thought, even though she's heard a version of the story before. "Hope... I know I haven't exactly proved it, but I can take care of myself. And you've got to admit, if you're around me? Then /you/ can take care of yourself a hell of a lot better than you can if you're not." Rachel smirks, and adds, "I saw what you can do with our powers, remember?" She sobers again. "The rest...? I believe you. But right now, I'd feel a lot happier if I knew you had my powers in your back pocket. The timestream might need to take care of itself, just for a while." It's just her opinion, it's very clearly not an instruction.
As Kwabena approaches with the key, she looks at it for a moment, slightly confused, then her eyes flicker over to the case. Giving him a quick nod, she pockets the key. Drawing up one leg, she loops her arms around it and looks pensively at Shift as he speaks. "At least we've got somewhere /to/ start." She agrees, then voices her concern. "Assuming we can find him, though... how are we going to catch him, and not end up right back in here again." Rachel directs a moody look at the glass. That it'd be /so/ easy for her to break is only adding to her unhappiness.
Kwabena's eyebrow shoots upward a bit when Hope grins. "You know him?" he asks, curiously. "He helped me out once, a great deal, when I was expelled from imprisonment in Latveria." He still hasn't shared that story, but as he looks back and forth between the two, he can't help but crack a bit of a grin. "Victah Von Doom, for de recahd, is a real bastahd. But he's brilliant, and Doctah Richards was once his best friend. Dey are two like minds. If dere's anyone in dis world who can use our blood samples to fashion some kind of a vaccine, it's him."
And there it is... it seems Shift believes there may be a chance for them to find a way, through science, to not end up in this room again. "I know, it's... not always a virus, and... well. I'm no physician. But I'll lay my chips on Richahds."
Sighing, he finds himself a perch of his own, which happens to be on the edge of an empty countertop. His eyes roam back and forth between Rachel and Hope, both tired and concerned. They end up lingering on Rachel for more than a moment or two, and a thoughtfulness appears, as if there was something he wanted to say.
That odd smile of Hopes grows ever so slightly at Rachel's words.
"If I need a telepath, I can do that from the school I'm at. If I need something defensive... I have options there."
What she doesn't say is that there's also others who have powers there, including those who aren't mutants, thus providing more than a few wildcards if she's ever attacked at the school.
"And if I'm not at the school, I'm in Mutant Town. And you can't tell me that I don't have all sorts of options when I'm there and need to protect myself."
But as soon as that's said, there's a faint chuckle.
"As for the timeline... I don't doubt it can. But let's also say that I'm slowly but surely working on something. If it works, the crazy who is after me might no longer be an issue. Hopefully. If I actually have time to get things together."
Then there's a headshake at Kwa.
"No. I don't know him. He's just been one of those people I've been meaning to talk to. But well.... He's also someone that you can't just walk up to and talk to either, if you know what I'm saying."
Rachel sees that smile on Hope's face and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. The invincible overconfidence of the young, to have just seen the Spire explode, Magneto and Jean Grey die, albeit temporarily, and to have survived infection by a variety of horrible pathogens - and she still thinks she's untouchable. It makes Rachel feel old, and she's only a few years older than Hope! Rachel gives in and shakes her head with a wry smile. "All right, have it your way." Rachel snorts quietly to herself. "But if you get in over your head and you /haven't/ called me? No sympathy. And I /will/ say I told you so." Rachel leaves it... pretty much where she left it last time they had this conversation.
Rachel eyes shift to Kwabena as he again hints at a story he hasn't told her, and her keen gaze suggests she's intrigued, although she's not going to press him for it while they're cooped up in a box. "Let's hope he can do it, then, and do it fast. It's not just us we need to worry about." She hardly needs to elaborate. They had the best possible care and access to magic. If Kurt decides to target a population centre, the general populace simply won't have those advantages.
While she ponders that depressing thought, Rachel feels Kwabena's eyes on her and looks up. << Going to tell me what's on your mind, or should I look? >> She says into his brain. She wouldn't, but... << And don't forget I'm not the only telepath in the room. >> So talking behind Hope's back isn't an option, not that Rachel wants to.
Kwabena pinches his nose for a moment. "By de time we get back, dey may have already struck." There is annoyance in his tone. Plus? He really, really could use a smoke.
Lowering his hand, he shakes his head, giving Rachel a wry smirk of his own. "Not here," he quips. "Not now." He studies her for another moment, before letting his shoulders slump for a moment. "Dere ah reports I must file... and see if dere's any way I can get dis damned quarantine lifted soonah." Rising, that beleaguered determination sets into his face again. "I'll be back." And then he's off, making for one of the side rooms.
Is Hope copying Rachels powers? Is she 'listening in'?
Maybe. But does it really matter?
Not really. Because as Kwa heads off, the teenager shakes her head before glancing at Rachel.
"Fine. Next time I'm captured by a talking telepathic gorilla, or if some maniac cultists attack me and Nate and his buddies aren't there, I'll call you."
And yes, here Hope is, back on the same page as she was before. But at least now it's been shown a bit that she can be useful.
Category:Log