synopsychic | [Open Broadcast]

Who: Everyone on the telepathic network (which is everyone)
When: Just after the new arrivals show up.
What: Joscelin attempting to get things organized.

[There’s a lot of chatter going on, literally making it hard to hear yourself think, between veterans gossipping and speculating what the new wave of Travelers means, and accidental broadcasts by panicked new arrivals, until one hard-edged thought cuts through it all.]

Enough.

You all need to stop this before we drive ourselves insane.

Anyone with experience on the Network, I want a few organized broadcasts offering help and information to newcomers. We don’t call them Fools.

If you’re new, stay calm. No-one can overhear you unless you’re projecting. Try to divide yourselves as evenly as you can between the people giving you answers. That much is instinctive, you won’t have trouble as long as you can imagine it.

Anyone who’s been here longer and wants to speculate? Don’t do it publicly. Find your own little corners, or keep it off the network.

New telepaths. You’ll need to find someone more experienced more than anyone else does.

And everyone be ready for a new Jaunt.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

You ain't the Violet Sister.

[He doesn't sound entirely sure, though. In fact, his tone sounds a little nervous, and very, very respectful.]

Edited 2014-04-05 23:59 (UTC)

[they'll build that bridge when they come to it. ]

Not at all, and I'll do my best to help look out for them if I can. But for the love of little emeralds let me know if I get anything wrong.

Right. Eugh, I've dealt with the unreliable memory thingy, it's-- I don't need to go into how awful it is. Just gotta try and make the best choices with what you do know.

No.

[Sigh, Gambit. Why do you make sense?]

I know it's sometimes our only option. I'm just wary this time after we've lost so many.

Believe me, I don't plan to take any risks I can avoid.

But then, they keep us in here much longer, we won't have that choice, either.

Probably because my hair isn't violet. [This is the snarkiest she can get with her mental voice. Which is really snarky.]

[None of that means anything to her. The words are familiar, but put together in that order. He might as well have explained why a raven was like a writing desk.]

[Instead, she searches for it directly in his mind.... and hears nothing.]

[Not the low murmur of background voices she's used to, that she thinks of sometimes as music. Dead silence.]

[Her eyes narrow and within seconds she's in his personal space, has him by the throat and back to the wall. Her grip isn't vice-like, just enough to hold him in one place. He's a mutant. She has no desire to hurt him more than necessary.]

What have they done to us?

If not, we adapt.

But trust me, fishing can get boring in the long run.

Well, it ain't far off, neither.

[She had white hair, white as her skin, white as bleached bones. But this lady still looks like her. A lot. And the pink is very near the color of the sister's burning eyes.]

This is nofin like my last vision a her.

[He finds her, finds the splash of pink like a cluster of abalone, and slithers diagonal through the space and orients himself upright next to her. He doesn't seemed disturbed by the unconventional gravity; it's easy for him to think in three dimensions plus, his spatial brain built to hand the depth and invisible currents of the see. His earfins are flared, and he looks drab and nervous in neat grey secondhand suit. He came into liminal space through the beach, but it's already dry.]

So's this not a toxic fever dream? Didn't figure those came with people answerin questions.

I think we all know there are worse things than boring.

[Despite himself, Remy flinches. He flails. There's a moment, maybe, where he could have reacted, but he lets it pass. He doesn't want to escalate things.

Pressed against the wall, he sighs, and shrugs, as best he can with his trenchcoat bunched and pulled taut, suspended as he is.]

They pull us all into this space, and they link our minds. But the power doesn't come from nowhere. Every telepath and every teleporter in this place is brought down to level.

[Fear. She smelled it before she saw it, and it's that assertion that she still has the power to instil it - however fleetingly - that pacifies her. She relaxes her grip, though she doesn't let go just yet.]

Fine.

You said you've been here a year?

[How can they keep us that long?]

Just a guess, chere. Three jaunts ago we were sent to a world that played with our minds. Now, everything before that is a bit of a blur. But a jaunt averages a month, and I've been on thirteen.

[Her snort may or may not have made it to the network, but in person, it's definitely there.]

Let's get this straight: I'm real, this is all real-- as real as something can get at least.

I used to be like you, but I've been doing this long enough to know that this is not an elaborate dream. It's best to understand that right now, before you do something stupid in the hopes of waking up.

Obviously. But these newcomers don't.

Chances are, they find out pretty soon.

Tomorrow, we go to only one glass of water.

[Normally he'd keep himself level, despite the sharpness that Neria nearly slices through his mind. How it demands attention in every aspect.

In a way, it's like the arguments he used to have with Erin.

But Garrett is tired, cranky, and restless, and he really doesn't want to argue with her. His tone is rough around the edges as he forces himself not to lose patience despite being stuck here with absolutely nothing for this long.]

Not us, them. [A beat, and it's almost as if he's sat back in a resigned kind of way. They lost a lot of good people on the last Jaunt- it was a great loss for all of them, him included. He'll never admit it, but it had been painful, in a way, to return and notice almost everyone was gone.]

For all we know, it could be they thought we were better suited for the next Jaunt. Or that we needed a reminder that they're still watching.

[It's up in the air, and really, he doesn't want to talk about it.]

Really. Just one.

Okay. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense. And I'm guessing that food and drink don't really work here either?

So we're not just worldjumping, we're body switching? That's a little messed up. Who thought this up even?

Mind switching. The bodies remain the same... usually.

We call them the Trumps.

Melts in your mouth.

... Right now we have one person who can make us real water.

The number of people just tripled. The amount of water I can make didn't.

Point taken. Think you can keep up 'til the next Jaunt?

That depends on how long it takes.

After tomorrow, will any of us have the energy to do anything? How long before we're ready to eat our new Fools?

Edited 2014-04-06 04:28 (UTC)

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