Electra

"I don't want to quit," Erin told Fulcrum. "I just don't know how to be a good... um, mentoree, I guess, either. I think I told you that I did this once before, and I messed it up, and my mentor quit the program. I don't want to fail twice, you know?" She shrugged. "Maybe starting out clean will help. I know a lot about hero work and a lot about fighting," she admitted, "but I don't really know most of the stuff I need to know when I graduate. Like finding an apartment and paying taxes and bills, and voting, stuff like that. Adult stuff."

"Let me go, let me go, let go," Gina ordered, her voice growing edgier with each repetition. She could feel her heart speeding up and her lungs burning, the all-too-familiar signs that a panic attack was imminent. If she could just get to her room, just be alone, where it was safe, where no one was looking at her and seeing how awful she was, things would be all right. If not, something horrible was going to happen, and even though the rational part of her massive intellect told her that was extremely improbable, it was easily drowned out by the clamor of impulses screaming for her to run. The adrenaline kick added some strength to her attempts to get away, for all Sharl's magnetic-field construction made him inhumanly strong. Despite her struggling, Sharl was fast, and the house wasn't really that big. Gina's door was standing open for once, making it easier to maneuver her inside. It was a surprisingly austere place for someone who spent most of her time inside her own house, though everything in it spoke to quality and a love of comfort. The bed was rumpled and unmade, but the mattress was a big queen-size pillowtop with new-looking sheets and lots of fluffy pillows, and the blanket that had been pushed aside looked like a down comforter. There was an oversized bookshelf near the shuttered window, containing what looked to be mostly technical and scientific works, along with a decent science-fiction section and a forlorn little gaggle of old romance novels off in one corner. A recliner and reading lamp testified to time spent using the collection, down to a couple of books with markers on a side table. There were a few pieces of framed abstract art on the soft blue walls, and all in all, it was a very nice, very quiet sort of room. A sanctuary. Perhaps in more ways than one, since there didn't seem to be any mirrors or pictures anywhere.

Wander would've been more thrown by her counterpart's mis-identification if it hadn't happened before, back when they'd crossed paths in the place between realities. Still, it was weird. She noticed that this box, like the other one, had plumbing fixtures, but no mirror. Was it possible that Singularity didn't even know what she looked like anymore? The thought was bizarre, but sort of beside the point for now. They were getting out of here, and everything was going to be better. "I'm not Mom," she told her counterpart, "but I'm here to help you. I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore." She paused for a second when she heard Sage's voice in her head. Thanks, any help would be good. Can you tell if she understands any of this? The contact was quickly cut off though, even as noises started outside. ____ Singularity stared at the familiar-looking stranger, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. It could be a trap, or a trick. Pathos always tricked her, but this was a new one. What did it mean? Was it a new way to make her get out of the box? She couldn't tell, couldn't be sure. Nothing ever was the way it seemed here. She flexed and unflexed her fists, wondering if she should try and fight the stranger before she could attack again. The stranger had gotten in from the ceiling, Singularity suddenly realized. Was there a way out through the ceiling? She had never thought about that possibility, not that she remembered, at least. If the stranger could show her the way out in the ceiling, maybe even if it was a trick, she could get away. Her attention was caught suddenly by the noises from outside the box. Someone was fighting outside! Singularity's eyes widened, her pupils dilating as she rose to the balls of her feet and turned to face the door. When there was fighting, the box opened and the voices started and she had to go out... She turned to look at the stranger, recognizing the noise. "The bad-luck man," she whispered fearfully, in a voice that sounded hoarse and rusty from disuse.

Gina groaned as the shift in position caused a fresh surge of pain through her battered head. She'd never taken a hit like that before while inhabiting, and it really wasn't pleasant at all. The pain brought clarity though, and she began to struggle to get away, albeit totally ineffectively. "I'll take care of it," she told him, an edge in her voice as she became more away of the grotesque condition she was in. "Only slept three hours last night, and spent way too long... working. I just need a shower and a nap."

For a long time, Gina didn't stir or say anything. Emerson took away the cup and rolled back to his dormant position until called upon again, red LED eyes glowing in the shadows. Sharl began to notice how musty and overwarm the room was, with the air recirculators still shut down. He couldn't tell how much oxygen was in the air, but the environmental conditions couldn't be helping too much. Finally, at least thirty seconds after he'd finished talking, Gina asked, "Sorry, what?"

Gina sputtered a little, then licked her lips as he wiped her face with the wet washcloth. On closer inspection, it looked as though she'd bitten her lip when she fell out of the chair, though the origins of the nosebleed were still foggy. "I'll be okay," she reassured Sharl in a voice that was scratchy and faint. "Low blood sugar, no caffeine. Hell of a headache. Just give me a minute." She reached out a hand blindly to swipe the pills Emerson gave her, and sucked on the straw the robot proffered, all without opening her eyes again or lifting her head off the floor. "You okay?" she asked Sharl.

Erin let the smile disappear, trying not to be nettled by the comments. She wasn't depressing or joyless, she reminded herself, just... undemonstrative. It didn't really make her weird. "Normally I wait till something makes me want to smile," she pointed out, but took the hand Fulcrum held out. "I really do appreciate the offer," she told Fulcrum. "I kind of just hope I don't have to take you up on it." She unfolded her napkin in her lap and fished around for something to say. It was kind of weird, but somehow these visits with Fulcrum reminded her of the times she and Clarissa had gone out for girl afternoons. Everybody had the best of intentions, but nobody had a thing to say. "Bust any interesting villains lately?"

My human is quite important to me. Despite the stereotypes perpetuated by humans of little understanding, constancy is a virtue of cats. There was, perhaps, just the slightest bit of reproof in those green kitty eyes as Oliver looked up at her. My human has a destiny of great importance, one that she must be prepared for when the time comes. I do my part, but to her, I am just a beloved pet, and cannot be more. She requires the constancy of her human companions as well.

The patting and poking seemed to have some effect; after a moment Gina screwed up her face into a grimace and began blinking. Her head was thick and foggy, and the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Sharl, from way, way too close up. "Hey," she grumbled, her voice slurred. "Can't you take directions? Told you to stay the hell out of combat and just gather intel..." It wasn't until a moment later that she realized, through a head that pounded unmercifully and a body that was a mass of woes, that she was no longer in the form she'd been inhabiting when she gave those instructions.

Date: March 6th, 2011 ((Continued from The Conquering Mind)) The holoprojectors popped him into reality next to the bottom landing of the stairs, and for a moment he couldn't see Gina at all. She wasn't in the chair where he'd left her, hours ago now, in order to deal with a much larger threat to the city and the world. When he took a few steps towards the ring of computers and devices that was her command area, he realized she was still there. She'd fallen from the chair, tumbling forward to the ground like a large and lifeless doll, tangled in the quilt he'd brought her, with her face turned in his direction. An unpleasant smell indicated she'd probably been deeply unconscious all this time, and she didn't seem about to wake up. Her white face was interrupted by red trails of blood dripping from her nose and the corner of her mouth.

Oliver purred, closing his eyes and stretching out his neck. My human consults with the doctor, Marquez, the one who treats the minds of the students at this place. The sessions sometimes cause her great distress, but they have served in the aggregate to ease her mind substantially. It is my understanding that there are substantial resources available through the school especially for students. My human is concerned, in fact, about the loss of these specialized resources when she must leave this place. It may behoove you to avail yourself of them while they are available.

Laying on his back with his paws waving lazily, Oliver's regard on Eve was serious despite his rather informal posture. That is a serious problem for a telepath, he agreed soberly. To become too involved in the psyche of another is to invite madness. It is certainly nothing to be ignored or suffered in private. What treatment have you sought for the condition? He gave her a level, rather challenging look out of those bottle-glass green eyes, the purr somewhat subdued but still present.

There is no need to suggest something you already know is obvious, Oliver pointed out, licking his paw. Distance and time are little barrier for those who can travel the world on a whim. Are you so undesirable as a friend that it would be an act of pity to maintain a relationship with you, rather than a reciprocal social interaction? If that is so, you may wish to improve yourself, rather than merely indulge in self-pity. And as for those others... The cat rolled onto his side, squirming so Eve's fingers found the itchy spot behind one ear. When a human causes pain to another, it is their responsibility to make it right, instead of leaving the wounds to fester, is it not? Such has always been the case with my humans.

Oliver gave Eve a lazy look, then got up, stretched, and climbed into her lap, gazing up at her expectantly. Apparently the petting was expected to continue as long as the little cat deigned to pay her his attention. Besides, it did feel better to be petting the cat. So you do not put thoughts into your companions' minds, but you have no trouble putting words in their mouths, the mental voice commented dryly. One would expect a telepath to be more cautious about discerning the reality of emotions before acting upon them. Just because you have forsaken contact with the people you once knew and do not plan to attempt to preserve your current friendships, that does not mean everyone feels that way. The cat's mental voice was arch, his eyes sharp green as they continued to watch her.

You give little credit to your friends, the cat observed, flicking his ears forward for a moment. Is it that you feel my human is so lacking in constancy, or that you feel yourself worth so little that even well-intentioned humans will not remember you when you leave their presence? He held up a paw in front of him, delicately extended the claws like a man looking at his fingernails, then began grooming the fur between his toes. It is my experience that those with powers are careful in their friends, and don't give them up easily.

Oliver yawned, showing off sharp white fangs and a pink tongue, then blinked lazily at Eve, still purring like a motorboat. Why would you want to have a normal life? The unaugmented human beings are unhappy and happy in equal proportion to the augmented ones. Don't you like the life you have? Are you not young and wealthy, with a healthy body and friends who care for you? And thumbs as well, a small but extraordinary power that too many humans take for granted.

Oliver purred a bit louder, tilting his head to allow her fingers more access to his chin. With all the many things you've seen and done in your time at this school, a talking cat is the one that convinces you of your loss of sanity? the voice came back in her head, still sounding tolerant and amused. You're not insane, simply very sad. I know from sad humans. The small cat stretched his front paws out in front of him languidly, then settled back in and turned his head to regard her.

Oliver purred and settled in next to Eve on the bed, half-closing his eyes to better enjoy the caresses. Oddly enough, just petting the cat made her feel a little bit better inside. Maybe it really was true about cats lowering your blood pressure. Oliver licked one orange paw, giving Eve a sidelong look as he tucked his tail around his back legs. Perhaps you weren't looking hard enough, came the response, delivered in a cool and pleasantly amused mental tone.

A movement at the window caught her attention. Oliver, Erin's gangly orange cat, was sitting on the windowsill as though he owned the place, feet tucked under his body like a miniature Sphinx. As though noticing her regard, he turned to look at Eve, then got up and stretched, padding along the windowsill and jumping down onto the bed. On silent little cat feet, he walked up the length of the bed until he was standing next to the pillow. Very deliberately, he boofed her hand with his head, obviously inviting a pat.

"Thanks." Wander gave a quick nod to both her teammates, then, as Midnight began tapping and drumming on the door to the impervium box, she found the ceiling hatch, popped it, and dropped silently into the box, drawing it closed again with one smooth motion. ___ Inside the white box, Singularity startled when she heard noises coming from the door to her enclosure. The box hadn't moved, and the box always moved when she was going to be let out. Well, almost always, she thought, as often as she could reliably remember anyway. She hadn't been out of the box in... she couldn't remember how long. It seemed like a long time. And she was hungry. The dim light in the enclosure meant it wasn't even awake time yet, but there were those noises... She crept closer to the door, wondering if she could surprise whatever was coming in. If she could get the drop on them, she could get out! Everything was bad outside, she remembered, but everything was bad inside too. At least outside... maybe she could get away? The concept was an open-ended question in her mind, but she would worry about that later. As the noises increased, her focus sharpened, to the point where she didn't even notice the hatch in the ceiling open until it was much too late and something big was coming down on her! She screamed in rage and fear, even as she was tackled roughly to the ground. ___ Wander hadn't necessarily meant to fall in right on top of her double, but she'd forgotten how ridiculously close the quarters were inside the box. With Singularity occupying the only open space, it was almost inevitable. She tried to make it count, pinning her counterpart to the ground as she landed, but the other girl was extremely strong, perhaps even a little bit stronger than Wander herself was! With a yell, Singularity flipped herself over and used her legs as pistons to toss Wander across the room. Wander crashed into the wall above the bed, corrected her own trajectory, and shot herself back at Singularity without missing a beat. Strength or not, there was no question who was faster and better trained. She caught Singularity in the midsection, driving them both across the small space until Singularity crashed into the wires that crossed in front of the door. The powerful electric jolt seemed to take the fight out of Singularity, at least for a moment. "It's okay," Wander told Singularity, backing off to stand by the toilet and raising her hands. "I'm not here to fight you. I want to help you. Do you remember me?" ____ Singularity shook her head to try and clear the stars from her impact with the high voltage wires. She hated the wires! Even if the damage didn't last, they really hurt! Thinking about that distracted her from fighting for a moment, long enough for the intruder to start talking, and for her to get a good look at who had dropped in. The new person looked so familiar... When asked if she remembered, Singularity hesitated, looking down at her shoes and wrinkling her forehead. So familiar... she knew who the new person looked like. "Mom?" she asked uncertainly.

Wander nodded to Midnight, then turned to the others, speaking in a whisper to Caryatid. "If I yell go," she told the young geokinetic, "you go, and you get the others out of here, understand? No questions, no waiting." Taking a deep breath, she turned and moved to the box itself. "Jump down here and start making noises against the big door on the side of the box," she instructed him, still barely above a whisper. "Distract her while I get in. Then lock the hatch behind me." Erin didn't have Trevor's stealth, but she was relatively quiet as she swung herself lightly up onto the top of the box.

Miss A rolled quickly, dropping Dragonfly the last feet to the ground even as the nullifier bounced onto its shock-absorbing base. "You've got to do it!" she shouted to Dragonfly. "Activate it and run!" She shot back into the air just as the metal-hulk of Daedelus came barreling towards her. Grimacing, she raised her arms to fire her laser beams, even as he plowed into her, sending them both tumbling through the air! The impact of the heavy suit sent the patriotic heroine tumbling through the air for a moment before she righted herself and turned back. "I'm very sorry to have to do this!" she called to Daedelus, then let him have it with the full force of her laser beams! She saw them hit the metal-clad man, but freakishly, they didn't seem to have any effect at all. She gulped and licked her lips nervously. "Hurry, hurry..." she murmured.

Ouch, but just a bruise. She will hit him back! With shooting! It's a 22! DC 27 toughness save.

Singularity is apparently awake and tuned in inside the box. Notice check is 34.

Erin mustered up a smile that only looked half-sincere, but it was a game effort, anyway. "Sorry," she told Fulcrum. "It's just... I've been here for more than two years now, and I've always had to have people set things up for me. Doctor Atom and the League brought me here, they got me the place at Claremont. The school takes care of my room and board, a friend of mine even bought me my truck so I could get around. I was kind of hoping that if I could get on the Freedom League, it would be the start of me taking care of myself here. But like I said, I know that's not how most people do it. Did you have a day job when you started doing hero work?" she asked curiously.