ladyfirestarter | desert places

Charlie steps through into the second-floor corridor and stands aside, holding the door wide for Olivia to follow her. The air on the other side is dry and cool, with the slight brittle chill that only comes with air conditioning.

"Welcome to Taos," Charlie says, lightly.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ladyfirestarter

"It's rockier around here," Charlie says as she closes her own car door. "Less dry greenery to catch fire in case anything gets a little out of control. But just in case -- I asked them to stick a dozen gallon jugs of ice water in the trunk before they sent up the car, and if we want to actually do anything with fire on purpose I'm gonna recommend we soak down a circle to work in first."

From:

flip_the_lights

She exhales a long breath, letting her hand fall. "Okay."

Olivia moves toward the open space, putting more distance between herself and the car. Extinguishing a brush fire is one thing; blowing up their only mode of transport is another.

"Should I start with something I've called up before, or go straight to the fire?"

From:

ladyfirestarter

"Let's leave the fire for last, I think. What kind of something were you thinking of?"

From:

flip_the_lights

"Either the glimmer, or..." She considers it before shaking her head, dismissing the idea. "I was going to say moving between worlds, but I don't know if this spot will be empty on the other side."

Or if -- since she's moving from a universe not her own -- it'll be even more difficult to get back.

From:

ladyfirestarter

"Well, that's the advantage of using a desert spot. They tend to be pretty, well, deserted. No matter which world you're in."

Charlie glances at her. "If you're not sure, though -- I take it you can't see through to where you're going until you're there?"

From:

flip_the_lights

"No," she says. "There was one time, when we were dealing with an outbreak of soft spots, where I could see Over There. But...that was the nature of the spot, not anything I did."

From:

ladyfirestarter

Charlie nods. "It's sort of the reverse, with some of the people here who can do that," she says. "When it's a natural thin spot, you can sometimes tell it's there but you can't really see through it. But if somebody makes an opening between worlds, it sort of --" she gestures -- "acts like a window."

At least by all accounts.

From:

flip_the_lights

A slight, wry smile. "If it's that different, maybe I wouldn't be able to cross worlds anyway."

At least Over There obeys the same general laws of reality as Olivia's own universe.

From:

ladyfirestarter

"Maybe not."

She knows what she'd do in Olivia's place, but for right now she's not going to advise unless she's asked.

From:

flip_the_lights

"So...the glimmer."

She kneads her palm with the pad of one thumb. Another idea occurs to her: "Or telekinesis. I managed to trigger a low-level variety of that once."

From:

ladyfirestarter

"Telekinesis sounds simplest." A slightly crooked smile. "And we've got plenty of rocks to throw."

From:

flip_the_lights

She mirrors the smile. "True."

All right. Olivia closes her eyes, squaring her shoulders as she searches for the internal switch. By now, she has a vague idea as to the location of some of the other switches -- the glimmer, the world-walking -- but telekinesis only happened once, and never spontaneously.

A breeze kicks up, stirring some of the dust near her feet. There's no way to tell if it's her doing or the wind.

Eventually, she puffs out an explosive breath and shakes her head, opening her eyes.

From:

ladyfirestarter

Charlie's watching her. "No luck?"

From:

flip_the_lights

"No luck," she confirms. When she shoves her hair back this time, there's a lot more sharpness to the movement. "It's like I can't find the switch. I know it's there, but..."

From:

ladyfirestarter

"You've done it before once, you said, right? What kind of situation was it?"

From:

flip_the_lights

"I had to defuse a bomb," she says. "There was...this person who'd been involved in the creation of the Cortexiphan kids."

That seems like the easiest way to sum up David Robert Jones, despite some inaccuracies.

"He tracked some of us down to test us. My test was turning off a light grid telekinetically; if I didn't do it within a certain amount of time, a bioweapon would explode over Boston."

From:

ladyfirestarter

Charlie's eyes widen. "Jesus," she mutters.

From:

flip_the_lights

Olivia nods.

"High pressure situations seem like a fairly reliable way to trigger manifestations in most of us," she says. "But there's too much potential for that to be spontaneous, not deliberately controlled."

From:

ladyfirestarter

(What she wants to ask right now is did you at least get the bastard later? -- but that isn't the subject at hand.)

"Yeah," she says instead. "I don't think we want to try and recreate a similar state of pressure here."

From:

flip_the_lights

Another crooked smile. "Exactly."

Olivia glances down at some of the pebbles near her feet, sizing them up.

"Any other suggestions for how to find the switch?"

From:

ladyfirestarter

She considers it.

"What about ... instead of recreating the situation, what about trying to relive it? Call up the memory of what you were thinking and how you were feeling, as vividly as you can?"

From:

flip_the_lights

Like the fear she latched onto the first time she triggered the glimmer. It makes sense: maybe the key is assigning different emotions to different abilities.

Because while she was afraid in that skyscraper, it wasn't the gut-wrenching fear of glimmer. It was steel; it was determination; it was the nerves of one bullet left in her gun and a fast-approaching target.

So. You can do this. You have to do this.

Do it.

Olivia spreads her fingers, the emotion heavy and rock-solid against her stomach. Another breeze whispers across the ground.

And this time, it starts to grow.

From:

ladyfirestarter

A quick glance around confirms it: the "breeze" isn't stirring anything else around them, not the brush a few yards away, not the ends of Charlie's own hair. It's localized entirely around Olivia.

You've got it. Keep going --

From:

flip_the_lights

The force wavers, as if Olivia's adjusting her grip on a slippery object; it dies to nothing, returns with a shove, settles back into something approaching steadiness. The pebbles around her feet rattle.

One by one, they begin to lift off the ground. Not very far -- not more than an inch or two, as visible strain starts to etch itself along Olivia's face -- but they're entirely under her control.