2746/A Screamin' Good Time

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A Screamin' Good Time
Date of Scene: 02 August 2020
Location: The Danger Room - Titan's Tower
Synopsis: Siobhan brings forth the Banshee in the training room of Titan's Tower, but confides to Caitlin her fears of 'cutting loose' with the spectral force.
Cast of Characters: Caitlin Fairchild, Siobhan Smythe




Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"This is the Danger Room," Caitlin says to Siobhan, and buzzes the door open to admit the two women into a large room filled with nondescript white panelling. Titan's Tower is a fair sized facility, almost larger than one would expect from the external view. The training room takes up most of an entire level.

"Nothing's a substitute for real life but the holo suite here does a pretty good job. We can run drills and do repetitions for dealing with a lot of threats."

A finger raises to point at an elevated ledge. "That's the observation deck and the control centers. Only the senior Titans can override the injury protocols. The emitters can get hot enough to give me 'n Donna a nasty burn, so ... y'know, if you're less-than-bulletproof, don't mess with the safety settings," she says with a wry grin.

Caitlin was in a light hoodie and basketball shorts; she peels out of both to reveal a close-fitting green and purple outfit made of some hardier material under them. A stylized CF in purple is visible over her left breast. It almost looks like gym wear, a sleeveless sports top with brief shorts.

"You're welcome to use it anytime though. I know Robin and Hawkeye want to get some training going for the newer folks," she tells Siobhan. "What would you like to work on today?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A look over at the room, she hmms and looks it over. She stares around carefully, shifting from foot to foot as she explained to before she looks down and shrugs, "I don't know about all dis." She states softly and looks to Caitlin before looking to the area below, "I haven't really ever allowed her to cut loose but...based on what my mum has done and what I...don't know...what I feel?" She looks to Caitlin with a shrug, "I worry about really letting her out." She takes a breath and looks over at Caitlin's outfit before looking up at her, "Dat is certainly a statement of an outfit." She grins and shrugs, "Not that I really get to choose mine."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin looks down at her attire in confusion, then snorts and laughs. "It's too hot out to be wearing long pants," the redhead explains. "Shorts and a sports top. It's made of a synthetic memory fibre I came up with a couple years ago." Caitlin whips her hair back behind her head and quickly binds out out of her face in a loose ponytail folded in on itself once. "If the outfit gets trashed, I wash it in an organic polymer suspension and it repairs any tears or holes. I got tired of sewing my old outfits together anytime I got thrown through a wall."

"If it makes you feel better, we can start with something small," Caitlin suggests, and pulls a touchscreen tablet off the wall. A few passes produce what looks like a semi-translucent Doombot. "This is one of Dr. Doom's servitor drones. I think he still calls 'em Doombots. It's about as strong as a silverback gorilla and pretty durable. This model had weak points behind the optical sensors, a power unit behind the chassis, and the rotary joints are pretty weak." The holographic model glows in those spots.

"Go ahead and see what it can do. It'll lunge and feint but it won't actually hit you until you hit it first," Caitlin tells Siobhan. The holowalls glow white and the Doombot stops t-posing and assumes an active combat stance, extending blades out of its wrist and menacing Siobhan.

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A look over to Caitlin and she tilts her head, "Well, it's not really me I'm worried about." She states in her accent, shaking her head and going out to where the thing stands. She looks at it before looking back briefly to Caitlin and then saying, "In order to fight somethin' like this I'll have to be the Banshee." She nods her head and looks forward, "So, do me a huge favor and...well, if I start to seem rather murderous, just stop tings. Or perhaps stop me." She states and then shrugs before she closes her eyes and when they open, they are glowing.

What comes next is something rather unnatural. Her eyes glow like what one might call a death light. That light that you hear others say they saw when they died. That would be her eyes. However, it doesn't stop there. Her face becomes skeletal, a skull with her silvery hair and no jaw. In the place of a jaw is inky blackness. That blackness wraps behind her head and under her hair. Coating down her shoulders to come to a strange silvery design that swirls down her arms and similar on her legs. Her chest is wrapped in odd silvery designs that are almost corset like.

"~Dere we are...~" Her voice echoes eerily, as if she were calling out from the other side. She then looks up at the Doombot and tilts her head at it, "~I don't tink dis is a challenge...~" She then looks to Cait briefly, seeming to look her over before her head whips back and she suddenly screams out at the thing. A quick blast of sound that is ear piercing and wide enough envelop the thing near completely with a brutal force.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The Banshee is a terrifying sight, true enough-- Caitlin shudders when Siobhan turns her back. She's at least considerate enough make sure Sio doesn't see her do it, though.

In Caitlin's defense, the Banshee does tickle the lizard brain very deliberately. That lingering horror all mortals have of Death, lurking in the brain stem.

The explosion of noice prompts a wince from the redhead. It obliterates the holographic unit, which flies backwards in a burst of virtual shrapnel that dissolves into blinking light behind it.

"Jiminy crickets," Caitlin mutters. She's staring at her tablet. "That was close to a hundred and eighty decibels. That's like ... a pound of dynamite."

"Mostly force-forward, too. So you can direct it a little?" she asks of the spectre. Focus on business, Cait. She wiggles a finger in her ear and pops her jaw to try and make the ringing stop. "Have you experimented with how precise you can modulate it?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
As Caitlin finishes talking, for a moment, the voice changes. It is more sinister, darker, deeper, and it says softly, "~Holdin' back. Could do so much more...~" And there's a growling sound in it. Then Siobhan turns to look to Caitlin and seems to focus on her a moment before she swallows before shifting in her spot, "~Sorry...yes. I was holdin' back. I...don't know all I can do.~" She says as she looks in the direction what was left of the Doombot went, "~I know I can send it out sort of like a whistle or I can open up wide.~" She nods her head.

She turns to fully face Caitlin now and takes a step toward her, hands clenched, "~I have not really," She pauses, that lower black jaw adjusting slight as she speaks, "experimented with dis as it is not, what I would call, safe.~" As she speaks, her words turn almost toward a whisper, those eyes going down to those clenched hands before she looks to Caitlin and shakes her head.

As her head shakes it is like a light switch. Some kind of night and day and just like that, she's human again. Sucking in a breath and stumbling back a step, "Sorry, it's easier to not just be her."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin keeps her cool when the Banshee turns to her. No fear. Her chin lifts slightly; posture neutral, but a fighter would notice her balance shifting to the balls of her feet.

Still, she relaxes with a faint sigh of relief when Siobhan manifests again. "Maybe it was too big of an ask," Caitlin agrees, and walks over to stand next to the Irish girl. She rests a comforting hand on Siobhan's shoulderblade and moves it in a reassuring circle. "You've obviously got some power. The researcher in me is really curious," she admits. "But I don't think power is the issue here. The Banshee's *you* but it's clearly affecting your thought processes differently when you're being, um. Her."

"I've got a little background in psychology. I'm wondering if what you need is a little therapy," she suggests. "I know a couple specialists who work with superhumans. The Titans have all been in therapy ourselves at one point or another. Maybe there's some... I don't know. Some way you can learn to control your emotions as the Banshee without having to *be* her?" she hazards. "Would you be willing to try it?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A sigh as Caitlin comes over and she looks up at her before looking forward, "I'm not entirely sure dat it is even me." She states softly after hearing Caitlin's words and then shrugging, "I mean, it is at least somewhat magical in nature from what I understand. So, I don't know all de details. What I do know is I want to be able to act without so much..." She hangs her head and sighs, "So much fear."

She looks back up to Caitlin and shakes her head, "Many times since I came here. Even when I was younger, I have been in situations where I could help but to do so would mean letting her out." She shakes her had, "And...I'd always ask myself the questions. If I let 'er out? Will I become the problem next?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"You're using distancing language," Caitlin explains. "If it was genuinely not 'you', like y'said, then you'd be calling the Banshee 'it'. You've gendered it in your words, and you share a common set of memories and experiences. When you were the Banshee, you recognized me. You expressed concern about the loss of control. When you looked at the projection, you made a *calculated* analysis about the threat level to you and the power you'd need to do it."

A sudden lopsided smile appears. "This is a good thing," she explains. "It means you're the one behind the steering wheel. I'm sure it's an emotional nightmare while you're transformed, but it's still you in there. I'd like to check with Dr. Strange or Raven before making any big pronouncements about transforming, just in case it's something more dire than I think. But at first pass, the only thing that really seems different is the instincts. What do you *feel* when you're the Banshee? What is it that drives you?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A look to Caitlin tells her that Siobhan is not so sure about all that. She then nods, "I am in de driver's seat but..." She looks to the side, staring in the direction that scream went and states, "But...dere's sometin' else dere." She grinds her teeth once before saying, "She wants me to...let go. To be." She shrugs, "To be what I am meant to be maybe? What drives is in some ways de same. Whatever I wished to do before is what I wish to do but there's so much violence. A want," She pauses and looks down, "No, a need to be violent. To kill." She shakes her head, "Caitlin. I know I'm holdin' back but it is almost like dere's sometin' else within me, talkin' to me. Talkin' trhough me. Tellin' me I am holdin' us back."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin smiles lopsidedly. "Ask the Titans. That's a problem a lot of us have dealt with," Caitlin says. "Raven knows better than any of us what it's like to have those kind of instincts."

"Look, I know it sounds corny, but I'm a big believer in the power of the human intellect. We're all creatures of instinct, deep down. There are primal drives that everyone responds to. Fear, hunger, pain. I don't want to get ahead of myself but the Banshee might not even be an 'else'. Have you considered the possibility that it's... you? Just with a different set of instincts driving you-- ones that people don't normally have?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
"I might tink dat a bit more if it didn't whisper to me in a different voice from time to time." Siobhan sighs and shrugs before offering a non-committal smile and looking around the room, stepping away and stretching her arms over her head, "All I know, Caitlin, is dat if I don't get it under control, it might be a day when it controls me." She shakes her haed, "I'm not entirely sure how long I've been really suppressing it but based off all dat has happened, it's just not an option anymore." She shakes her head.

"If I keep doin' dat, eventually sometin' is gonna happen and I'm gonna cut loose..." She then looks up a moment, letting out a burst of breath before lookin' down, "And I'm worried I won't come back."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Trying to suppress yourself is never the way to go," Caitlin says kindly, and gives Siobhan's back a pat and nudges her towards the door. "Like I said, let's consult an expert. If it's really a curse and this is some kind of malign entity, then we'll do everything we can to help break it."

"But-- if it's not a curse or something trying to use you-- if it's just... you," she says, carefully, and turns to face Siobhan. "Is this a power you want to learn to control, or something you want to be rid of? We can help you with either of those, I'm sure. But it needs to be a decision *you* make. No one else can make it for you," she says, with a kindly expression.

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
"Fairly certain gettin' rid of it, eitter way, is not an option. Me ma had it and her ma before her." She looks to Caitlin, "We've been dealin' wit dis for a long time." She then considers and looks to the side, "All the same. You're right about dat not suppressin' it bit." She nods her head and walks with her toward the door, "I will say, dough, dat da one called Cassie might be a bit overly eager to see what I can do." She shakes her haed and chuckles a little, "Dough at least a part of me or it or whatever is ratter eager to see what it can do, too."