5341/Lab Work

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Lab Work
Date of Scene: 25 February 2021
Location: Hank's Lab
Synopsis: Kassandra gives a demonstration of her power and Hank mentioens what may happen to her after.
Cast of Characters: Kassandra Pagonis, Henry McCoy




Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     After a day or two of recovery, and Kassandra spending a good amount of time exercising in the quiet of her hospital room and talking to Paige about a shopping trip that's apparently financed by Warren, it was time to figure out exactly what was going on with Kassandra. While Cerebro certainly could tell that she was a mutant, figuring out what flavor was the trick. Could she dream things into reality? Could she break codes and steal secrets? And what were the limitations of her abilities? Hank McCoy's Lab at the ready!

     Sitting in a stool in the middle of the lab, Kassandra lifted one arm, looking at the assortment of sticky leads attached to it, then the other arm, with even more leads. "I'm almost expecting you to have me put on a helmet so you can get this baseline." She teases, a strip of cloth wrapped loosely around her right forearm. "But it's really best if I just show you and then you can see and go from there. Sound good?"

Henry McCoy has posed:
Henry was always one to try to make people more comfortable. Having leads on the arm is infinitely easier than trying to attach them into hair! He'd done some tests on the drug they'd found - having traced a bit of it to the substance in Kass' tears. He wasn't going to bring that up yet, however. No need to stir up any anger or distress. So testing was in order, if only to understand her gifts a bit better.

He'd pulled over a stool for himself, the man nodding. "Well, did you have any particular item you'd like to take a look at?" He'd lined up several items on his workbench, from mundane to odd. A football helmet, a remote control, a notebook and a t-shirt. "Not sure if any particular type of thing works best for you..."

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     Using one foot, Kassandra pushes herself over to the assorted items, looking first from them to Hank and then back again. "Well, what I've discovered is that the more intense the memory, the easier it is for me to pick up. Also, things that get a lot of...traffic? Use? Sometimes are tougher to get through than others but..." She shrugs and plucks the football helmet up and scoots back to where she was, doing her best to keep the leads from getting tangled.

     DRawing one knee to her chest, she puts the football helmet on it and unwraps the cloth from her arm, letting it unfurl. It's a towel or, at least, is what's left of a towel, that's been turned into one long strip. Taking it in both hands she pushes her hair back with both hands and then starts to wind the cloth tightly around her eyes, effectively blinding her to the outside wrold. "Okay, first thing. Sights, sounds, smells, some light tactile stuff, all there. But the real world is here, too, so don't run away from things otherwise you'll hit a wall or trip over a chair and hurt yourself." She pops off the helmet from her knee an takes it in both bare hands, taking a soft, shuddering breath, letting it out with a whoosh. "First time on demand without a needle in my arm." she says softly. "Here we go."

     At first, nothing happens. The machines beep, the coffee maker in the corner gurgles, and the lights are bright around the lab but, slowly and surely, things start to drop out. First the sound of the machines - the beeping, fades, like it's heard through water and then, nothing. Next, the smell of the coffee and then, the lights slowly start to fade until Beast and Kassandra are sitting on invisible chairs in a black void that stretches out endlessly. She lifts her hands and, outlined in thousands of scintillating threads is the shape of a football helmet and, with a quick motion, it seems to explode into color, sending thousands of threads out in all directions....the memories in it, perhaps?

Henry McCoy has posed:
The doctor watches, patient and excited to see what gifts she may unfold. At her warnings, he nods, feet gripping the bottom ring of his stool as he settles in. He stays quiet as she focuses, not wanting to disturb or distract her. His breaths become a bit deeper - slower - trying to remove all other sources of sound that he can.

As the room starts to fade out - the sounds and sights - he glance around more. A rub of his eyes, trying to clear them of anything that may be giving him difficulties. Nope - it's her gift. As he looks back to her, he spots the glow of the helmet shape. Then she flicks her hands, and the memories scatter - tethered by the threads.

"Oh my. Can... you look at each of the threads? Do they all show ... different scenes in time?" He wonders, looking at the myriad of options.

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     Kassandra looks right at Henry - she seems to have no issue pinpointing him here in the middle of this black void - and nods. "Basically, yeah. It's like...videotape, I guess. Or the strings that the muses weave to measure out lives, but with items. I mean..." She gives the football helmet a shake and some of the threads stretch out into infinity, one of the brighter ones right in front of her blinfolded eyes - a blindfold that is quickly becoming saturated with those dark tears of hers. "Watch." She reaches out to clasp that bright line between thumb and forefinger...

     Suddenly, it's a fall day. The smell of a cold front is on the breeze coming from the east, the skin tingling from the chill in the air. Frozen in place are two teams in the middle of a play, the helmet Kassandra was holding probably one of a linesman, judging from the scars in the well-worn plastic. She's holding the thread between thumb and forefinger and, reaching up wtih her other hand, starts drawing it through her fingertips and slowly, jerkily, the scene starts to move....

Henry McCoy has posed:
Well, a running back's helmet. Henry's eyes go to Kassandra's for a moment, noting the formation of the tears. Then it's back to the scene as it stutters into life. He takes in a deep breath, eyes going wide. He breathes in the scent of the game - all the sensations rushing in.

The scene roars into life, the large man wearing the helmet dashing towards the crowd. Most would try to move around the scrum in the middle, but not this man. Henry "Magilla Gorilla" McCoy sprints forward - using his strength and mass to drive through the would be defenders. The other men topple like ten-pins, with Henry barely losing stride. He grunts, loping down the field to dive into the enzone with panache and flare.

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     It's just about the moment that Henry dives into the end zone to score that the scene falters and freezes. It'd be the perfect slow-mo replay pause thing, showing the second before he's about to break the plane to score but, slowly, the scene starts to blow away, like it was projected on smoke and now the smoke is dissipating. Kassandra slumped in her chair, slipping off to fall to the floor. The sounds of the world start to come back in. The EKG a cacophony of chirps and beeps

Henry McCoy has posed:
The man was caught up in the moment - yet as it begins to falter, he glances around. Seeing Kassandra slumping, he moves quickly. Before she hits the floor, he scoops her up in a catch to avoid her hurting herself in the fall. "Drat... I wonder if it is always so draining to her?" He murmurs. She's carried over to an examination bed, laid down to be comfortable. The EKG and monitoring equipment is checked, making sure she is in good health.

"Kassandra, are you all right?" He asks, checking all the leads and his patient. Those tears are studied, perhaps trying to determine if they are still coming - or have ceased.

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     Kassandra is out cold. Breathing, yes, high heart rate, yes, but out cold. Imagine the cocktail of drugs they had to pump into her to run an entire party at the same time! With the image finished, the tears have stopped. Yes, they've soaked the blindfold and have the same consistency as india ink but the cloth has caught most, if not all, of the tears, leaving none on her borrowed sweatshirt.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The doctor takes mental notes, moving to remove the bandages carefully. Her eyes are cleaned, wiped clear with a warm washcloth. For now, the bandages are not replaced - letting her drift in sleep without worry. As she dozes, he works in the lab - simply keeping things tidy and allowing her to sleep.

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     While she sleeps, fitfully, a quick nap, at best, small areas of nothing appear and vanish around the bed. Sure, if Hank's near one, he has plenty of time to move but, if he stays in, he'll witness things that happened in the lab, in the past. Discoveries he made, brief snippets of conversations had over the intercom, and research done long ago. And he really should have left the blindfold on, because as this happens, the blankets and pillows are stained with her tears. Eventually...finally...after about twenty or thirty minutes the images stop coming and a soft shuddering yawn can be heard from the bed. "My head hurts." Kassandra says mournfully. "And I lost my blindfold." She pushes herself up, wiping her eyes with the sheet, getting about halfway sitting up before flopping back in the bed. "You get what you needed?"

Henry McCoy has posed:
As he watches, he does take more notes - noting the uncontrolled power as the various memories and snippets make themselves apparent. Soon, as she's waking, he grins over to her. Getting up from his desk, he moves over to the sink. A washcloth is run in the warm water, being brought over to her after. "Sorry... I took the blindfold when you passed out." Henry explains, offering her the cloth. "I'll get some water. It's likely a strain on your body to use your gifts. It's like a muscle - if you haven't practiced, it will drain you and make you tired." A genuine smile.

"I saw what I needed - there might be some people more appropriate to speak to on your gifts, being that they are of the mind." Henry admits, moving over to get a bottle of water for the woman. "I think we'll want to wait until you are a bit better health-wise to practice more."

Kassandra Pagonis has posed:
     The cloth is taken gratefully, Kassandra wiping her face with it and setting it aside, dangling her feet off the side of the bed. "It's okay. I didn't say anything about it when I started. And that one was pretty good, too. Got a couple of minutes of the image before I passed out." Sur rubs the back of her neck with one hand, rocking her neck back and forth with a little muffled pop as she moves it in just the right way. That's the stuff there. "So what now?" She finally asks Henry, looking over at him and his pad of notes. "I don't really have anywhere to go other htan here."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Henry rubs at his chin, thinking on that. "Let me speak to a few people here? The others from the X-Men?" He suggests, smiling over at her. "We tend to have a bit of room about, and it might be something we can work out with you. If you've truly no where to go, we can sort out things where we can get you housed and help you learn your gifts." A nod from the Beast. "We tend to look out for our own, Kassandra."