ArchivedLogs:Helpful

Helpful
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Hive, Kate, Joshua
In Absentia	2014-12-18 Part of Future Past TP.
Location <NYC> {Geekhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
There's an open airy feel to the floorplan of this unit. The door opens up into a wide expanse of common space that is not so much divided up into rooms as it is simply multipurposed. Ash-grey resin flooring underfoot runs up against the paler grey of the exposed stone in the walls; between the stone support there are wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the river on one side of the home and the Commons' central yard on the other. Half of the space has a ceiling at one-floor height, though half of the space is left open with a balcony up on the second floor overlooking the living space below. A slatted stairway heads up to the second floor balcony; on the other side of the room, a fireman's pole running straight down the the basement provides a quicker way /down/. The wide open space here is combination living and dining room; near the windows there are a pair of couches and large armchair around a wide coffeetable; further off a steel-and-glass dining table is surrounded by eight tall black chairs. A full bathroom behind the stairway is done up in dark granite; the glass-doored bathtub/shower is rather expansively large. The kitchen is tucked off in back, beneath the half-height ceiling; in here the appliances and cabinets and shelving recessed into the wall are in brushed steel, wide grey sweeps of tempered glass countertops running around the edge of the room and a large central island holding stoves and oven and deep double sink. Adjacent to the kitchen, beneath the ceiling as well, is a sitting area structured largely around the enormous television against one wall, a wealth of video games for a number of consoles held on the shelves around the television. Crates and beanbags and one low futon folded against the floor are arranged in good viewing distance; opposite the television, a sturdy large pen built out of wood shrines a couch amid a sea of brightly colorful playpen balls. A door in one wall opens up to the apartment next door; a door opposite leads down to the basement. Today, Geekhaus smells like coffee and chocolate. Cocoa on the stove and coffee brewing in the coffeemaker. A box of Happy Cakes muffins and pastries on the coffeetable in the living room. It's just been deposited there by Flicker, bouncing rapidly back and forth between kitchen and table to deposit foods and drinks. Mug of coffee on a coaster. Thermos of cocoa. Blip-blip-blip. The food seems to almost appear there on its own, how quickly he moves. Jittery-fast. He looks a little tired. Peaked-pale, shadowed under his eyes; maybe he hasn't been sleeping much. He's neat-groomed, though, tidy in cable-knit sweater over polo, khakis. His prosthetic arm hangs a little stiff at his right side; he doesn't actually use it in carting the food to the table. Joshua doesn't help bringing food to table. His two arms are currently in use bringing a Hive up to the living room, given that the telepath is just /about/ as incapable of getting himself there as the mug of coffee is. The paramedic is walking, not teleporting -- /probably/ out of respect for an already preeetty nauseated Hive -- up from the basement to arrange the bony pile-o'-telepath on the couch under a nest of blankets. Grumpy Bear blanket. Exploding Tardis blanket. Blanket covered in rainbowy-bright stars. Hive doesn't really seem to notice the blankets. Or the arranging. Sort of curled into a small ball -- though the smell of coffee perks him up. /Just/ a little. His eyes close again nearly as soon as they've cracked open, though. The knock at the Geekhaus door is slightly hesitant, accompanied by a general uncertainty that she has the right house number in the complex. Kate is a fidgetty ball of energy while she waits to be let in, shifting her weight from one fuzzy-booted foot to the other. Dressed for the relatively mild chill, Kate wears a puffy, hunter green vest over a tan tunic top, a pair of skinny jeans tucked into the tops of her boots. Her long hair is pulled back into a ponytail to keep it under control as she waits. Sipping from her extremely large travel mug of coffee, the off-duty nurse checks the house number several more times, just to be sure. She looks reasonably well rested, though after nearly a year of pulling night shift at the hospital, Kate seems to have settled in to surviving off caffeine and stubbornness alone. Flicker is at the door approximately half an instant after the knock sounds, a combination of nervous anticipation and hair-trigger reflexes. There's a warm smile on his face when he opens it, though it can't really banish the worried strain he's been wearing. "Hey. Hi. Thank you. So much. It means a lot. To come. Thanks -- oh, right." With a blush he remembers to actually step /back/, open the door, let Kate /in/. "Can I get you something? We have muffins. And there's -- croissants." His hand rubs at the back of his neck, twitch-fidget. Restless. "Or cocoa or -- juice or -- coff -- oh. You have coffee." His blush deepens. "Hive's -- there." He gestures over towards the living room couches, an uncomfortably stiff-mechanical motion with his prosthetic arm -- it doesn't look like he's quite used to manipulating it yet. << Right house, >> murmurs quietly into Kate's mind in answer to the uncertainty. Gently, calmly; Joshua's absent-light mental touch rather than Hive's typically painful sledgehammering. The paramedic's chin lifts to Kate when she enters, a small smile curling his lips up. "Hey. How'sit?" He tucks a pillow beneath Hive's head, hooking his thumbs through the beltloops of his jeans. << One day, >> a little bit dryly, << we really should do coffee in a coffeeshop. Instead of over dying people. >> Aloud: "Do you mind if I stay? This is new to me. Like to see how you do it." << Might be less tiring in shifts, anyway. >> << Oh good >> comes the hurried, somewhat startled response from Kate's mind when the door opens in time with the mental reassurance. Stepping into the house once Flicker makes room, glancing around curiously at the room. She salutes with her over-large coffee mug, smiling sheepishly, "Oh, yeah. I stopped on my way here. It's kinda rare for me to go anywhere without coffee in hand. But thanks. Might need some juice in a little bit, possibly." << Sounds lovely >> Kate responds dryly << I seem to meet most people like this, unfortunately. This, or I run headlong into them in the park. >> Taking a long pull from her coffee, Kate nods slowly, and starts to move her way towards Hive's sofa. When Joshua asks if he can stay, she nods slowly, taking a deep breath, "Yeah. I don't mind you sticking around. It's definitely easier with another healer." Mentally, she thinks of Corey, who has been her rock through all of the healing she has done since arriving in the city. "Though, it is pretty boring to watch, I'd imagine. I sort of just sit here," she says with a shrug, << Though if you can watch my mind, it might be more helpful? >> "Juice, yeah. We can do juice." Flicker bounces a little on the balls of his feet at this. Kind of /over/-eager like he's just glad for some way to be Of Assistance -- even more obvious when he blips off to the kitchen and pours two different kinds of juice. Flit-flit-flit, shimmering back and forth between rooms to set glasses on the table, orange juice in one glass and something red in the other. Probably a cranberry-ish sort. He does at least stop his unsettling-quick fretting-flitting after this, though, settling down on the arm of Hive's couch, teeth pressing against his lip as he leans down. Fingers tracing against the short fuzz of Hive's hair. "Hey. Dude. Wake up. Kate's here." Joshua's eyes tick back and forth, a futile attempt to follow Flicker's rapidfire /jittering/. << Down, boy. >> It shivers dry into the other man's mind. Amused. With a light mental /pat/ on the head, an image of a bone being tossed. Joshua folds himself into the opposite couch across from Hive's, legs folding beneath him and elbows propped on his knees. "I can watch your mind," he says, slowly, "but I --" He hesitates, a moment. "It's more than that. What I do. When I'm around other mutants -- there's a kind of sensing. It's hard to explain. Helps to learn." Hive twitches, at Flicker's touch. Pushes his head up into it, eyes squeezing tight and then cracking open, reluctantly. For a moment he withdraws -- curling tighter, further under the blankets -- but then relaxes, some sort of recognition sinking in. "Oh -- oh." The small twitch at his chapped lips is probably meant to be a smile, though it doesn't quite manage to resolve fully. "Hey -- hi. Hey. Thanks -- thank you. {Sorry} -- we. Bother you. A lot. I didn't -- but. Thanks." Kate doesn't even try to follow Flicker's movements back and forth into the kitchen, just shaking her head and taking another long pull of her coffee. "Thanks," she says with a polite smile to Flicker as she moves toward the sofa, waiting to sit until Hive is alerted that she was there. "Ah, fair enough. I just know there isn't anything flashy, no lights or warm glows or anything like that. Just... mentally, well, yeah. I guess you'll see," Kate responds with a shrug, sipping her coffee again - more of a nervous twitch than a need for coffee or liquid. She watches as Hive wakes, offering a gentle smile. "Hi there. And, hey, no worries, no need to apologize. I said I'd help, didn't I?" Kate responds, shaking her head, mentally worrying << I hope I still can. >> Kate takes a seat at Hive's feet on the sofa, careful not to disturb him from his blanket nest, allowing her powers to give her a basic estimate of Hive's current physical state. Flicker's cheeks burn red at Joshua's mental teasing. The small reflexive dip of his head is not /entirely/ unlike tucking tail between legs. His fingers press a little harder in their rubbing. Slow-steady. Massaging at Hive's skull. Though he can't hear Kate's thoughts his own run in similar lines -- << hope she can help >> though it's oddly undercut by a sharply contrasting dissonant note. A part of him -- that he's trying to bury -- wishing she'll say she can't. His eyes fix on Hive's face. Steady as the calming press of fingers. Hive's eyes close again, briefly; the smile that had failed to surface before makes it, this time, small but calm at Flicker's reassuring touch. "You did. It just -- things were. Complicated. Before." The smile fades, head turning to press the side of his face against Flicker's palm. To Kate's senses, the landscape inside his brain has changed quite a bit since the last time she looked. There is no more foreign body stuck mooshed up into it, for one -- /potentially/ at least one reason to be more willing to undergo healing now without that complicating matters. But the tumor that was there has grown, both bigger and in a more advanced grade than it had been before, an ugly snarl of cells lodged up against his brainstem where conventional medicine can't safely operate. Kate holds out her hand to Hive, resting it palm up near where she estimates his hand to be, a silent invitation to let her hold his hand. Assuming he takes it eventually, the skin of her hand is chapped from too many washings, but comfortably warm to the touch. "I understand," she says quietly with a nod, taking one last pull of her coffee before she gets to work, "We'll see what I can do to help." She falls silent as she focuses, letting her sense stretch further and examine the landscape. As Kate's senses wander, a map begins to form of the extent of Hive's current situation. The longer she is in contact, the more detail begins to show in her mental map, quietly assessing and estimating, focusing on where the tumor had pushed, where it had grown. Exhaling slowly, her brow furrows in concentration, or possibly in an expression fo dislike at what she sees. The extended contact will eventually begin to lessen some of the pain, very gradually - this is more a side effect, as opposed to any sort of treatment. "Complicated before." Flicker's echo is a little bit /wry/. << So simple now. >> His mind is a flurry of images. Tangled together and contradictory. A familiar school going up in flames, a dank sewer with a clang of heavy footsteps echoing down its walls, a city bright and glittering with stars pulled straight from a dreamscape. A throng of undead, a field of white lotuses. A tiny green child with white-petal hair. His head tips forward. Presses a small kiss to Hive's forehead. "Guess it always is." Hive's hand does extend, fumbling out from his blanket nest to curl unsteady fingers in against Kate's, resting there lightly. The slowly ebbing pain draws his eyes open again, faint surprise slipping into his expression. "M'--" His jaw clenches up, for a moment, eyes shifting up to lock on Flicker. A hard swallow is pushed down his throat, and his fingers tighten, still shaking, against Kate's hand. "... thank you," he finally manages, again. "Didn't really. Make this any /easier/, I. Know." There's a small /ripple/, mentally, fluttering -- unsteady, un/easy/, up against the others' minds. His shoulders twitch, and it passes. His eyes close. Breath forced slower, calmer, expression slipping back into a steady neutrality -- or maybe sleep. Joshua, meanwhile, has been watching Kate -- though at this flurry of thoughts his eyes shift to Flicker. A small furrow in his brow, a small press of lips. He swats these mental images /back/ together with a silent << ? >> of questioning, puzzled -- an undertone of concern to the thought before his dark-eyed gaze shifts quietly back to the nurse. As the definition of the tumor and its boundaries becomes clearer to Kate's mind, her features twist into a concerned grimace. Doubt, at her own abilities to do anything in the face of this advanced cancer, echoes through her mind, even as her power further maps out the blood vessels that feed the tumor, making note of what regions of Hive's brain are being affected and displaced. The medical plotting, occurring while she silently sits, is an odd mix of conscious thought offering assessment and diagnoses from years of study and her innate healing mutation. Gently, Kate squeezes Hive's hand, letting out a slow breath that she didn't realize she was holding. "Ok. Well, I'm glad to see you got that chip taken care of, at least," she says, quietly, eyes still closed as she focuses on the map, "I can't offer promises right now, but I can try. This is right at the furthest edge of what I can do, I think." There's a guilty tinge to the words, a quiet worry that she may still not be able to save him. "It isn't going to be fast. Or particularly easy. But I think I have a good map of where everything is, and we can start working on pushing it back," she says, her voice quivering slightly, tiredness starting to creep in to her thoughts. To anyone watching the mental map of the tumor, it does not seem to have changed any, though some of the hijacked blood vessels leading to it have begun to shrink back - just a little bit. withdrawing to where they should be properly. "Your nausea and at least some pain should be suppressed for at least a little bit, a few hours or so," Kate says, looking at Hive, "I need to do some prep before I can really work on a long session. My mutation will start to eat away at my own energy and calorie reserves when pushed too hard. And possibly see if Corey can be here, if that's ok? His power lets everyone involved go for longer with this." The next bit is directed towards Joshua and Flicker, as well as Hive, "And I need Hive to eat or drink more, or possibly an IV? I know it will suck, but my healing can be a huge drain on the body, and this is going to be like running a marathon several days or weeks in a row. Which could be very bad." "I'll keep him fed," Flicker promises. "And if there's anything you need we'll have it here. Food or drinks or -- anything. Of course it's okay if Corey's here -- just. Let us know what kind of schedule works for you. I just finished my last exam today so I'm off school the next month -- can do this on. Whatever's convenient. It --" His eyes are glistening. Just a little bit. His head gives a very small shake, Joshua's questioning pushed away from his mind, the images shoved out of his mind to replace it with calm. Steady, quiet, a ripple of clear blue ocean. "This really," he says softly to Kate, "means the world." Hive nods along slowly, mind half focused on Flicker's and half focused on watching Kate's as she works. "Eating's been hard, most days I can't --" "-- I can get an IV in here." Joshua cuts in quiet and simple. "And trade off, once I see how you do it the first time. Help take some of the load off you." Hive dips his head in simple acknowledgment. "Whatever you need, too," he agrees wtih Flicker. "You're. Kind of an angel, I can't -- thank you. Enough. But when this is over I --" He trails off, brows knitting together. His hand squeezes at hers slowly. "... doesn't really seem like there's a way." Kate listens and nods as the others speak, draining the last of her coffee in an attempt to re-energize herself. "I'll have to check my schedule at the hospital and see if I can clear a bit of time out," Kate says, bowing her head guiltily, "They get a bit grouchy if I miss a more days. Called in a bit sick a few times." The statement comes with memories of patching up a good number of people in pretty bad states, though there is no sense of regret at being able to help them. "Can't really put this off longer, so I'll be in contact shortly to set up a time to start," Kate states, carefully rising to her feet, perhaps a little wobbly, with one last gentle squeeze of Hive's hand, "Hopefully we'll get you back up and good to go soon." To Joshua's statement about getting an IV, Kate's eyebrows raise briefly, but she nods, "That would probably be best. I just know how draining this can be, and, well," she cuts herself off before she calls Hive's health fragile or precarious, shaking her head. She blushes quite soundly at the praise, shaking her head, "Nah. No angel. Just a nurse who happens to be able to heal." She takes a deep breath, starting to make her way towards the door, "Ok. Give me a call if you need anything."