Chapter 151: 151
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Spending the night in a pull-up for adults was insulting but Orison didn't understand the rules and thought that this was quite possibly still part of the testing. He thought it wasn't all bad when he realized he could watch TV through the large window in his door but once it showed inappropriate content and he realized it was yet another way to pry into his mind, he lost interest. When the esper finally arrived, he found he was almost as relieved as he was dreading.
"As per federal law, I am a C-class telepathic esper. My mode of reading is through touch and my range is active thoughts only. Please do not use any kind of imagery training to block reading as it will only result in a longer session and possible consequences... Do you have a preferred method of contact?" the old man said.
Orison said, "How about grabbing left wrists with left hands. We could maybe have a tea or coffee while we talk? No one said it had to be unpleasant, right?"
The old man smiled faintly and said, "No but you'd think someone did with how it usually goes. I wouldn't mind a spot of tea."
While the man's assistant made beverages happen, Orison engaged in light dialog, practicing focusing on the man's words and then mentally reacting to them rather than reacting while the man spoke. It was something that some did naturally and wouldn't come across as using visualization training to block reading even though it very much was, masked under visualizing the reader's words. Judging by the old man's reaction, it was working or the man just didn't care.
Once they were as comfortable as they could be, the man asked, "What is the source of your mystic ability?"
The young mage replied, "I'm not fully certain what 'mystic ability' means but if you're referring to the energy I feel after I became 'special', then it's from absorbing parts of an outsider of unknown origin after it tried to control me."
"How did you resist the control and how did you absorb the parts you obtained?" the old man continued.
Orison answered, "I didn't resist much of anything. Another 'special' scared it off by hurting it and the remnants left behind were what I took in because they were attuned to me, is the best way I can describe it."
The man, "To the best of your knowledge, describe your source."
Orison, "A very small connection to another place that leaks a bit of energy into me."
Using their own expectations and what Ignatius had shared to him about how things like ifrits and devils survived when summoned elsewhere, Orison painted a picture for them. He tweaked his real circumstances to mimic inheriting the connection of a more ambivalent than malevolent entity to its spiritually neutral home plane. 'Possessing' Orison was merely a means to an end in truth, as it had never been about him at all.
Answering questions about his personal history was far more tricky. There were points where the old man even visibly showed some suspicion but the young mage had been cooperative enough for the 'assistant' not to resort to more aggressive measures. They just upped the amount of repetitive questions asked in different ways.
When it seemed like the 'interrogation' was over and the old man showed signs of fatigue, he asked one more question. "Why did you suddenly become, uh, extremely antisocial and uncooperative towards the end of your session with Genevieve?"
Mentally blending together all the people he'd ever met that gave him 'creeper' vibes, Orison said, "What's extreme about not wanting to talk after almost four hours of forced conversation?... I know that she had a job to do that meant she... She tried to convince me that I wanted to be a girl and pressured me into talking about private things, like how I would feel if I was naked. She even threatened to lock me away for three months right after I insisted I didn't want to be her friend. I'm think she's interested in me in ways not related to her job and that scares me a little."
It was all true even if it was taken out of context.
The assistant that was more like a handler of the old man, looked skeptical but then seemed to finally notice that the fully calm and rational teenager was wearing an incontinence aid and nothing else in the self harm risk room. With Orison's personal version of the story and the public story being well matched against the assumed but unverifiable story of the hospital, it started painting Genevieve in a very bad light.
After giving the orderly instructions to move Orison to a regular room and give him a 'decent set of clothes', the assistant left while lending an arm to the old man. Later that afternoon, he received one more set of tests while Karen shot daggers at him. Instead of following a suggested three weeks of therapy and observation, Mark sent Orison to the selected dormitory an hour before sundown.
Out on the road and feeling somewhat like a person again, the young mage engaged in a little meaningless but friendly banter with his driver before realizing they had nothing in common to really talk about. To avoid the ensuing awkward silence, he expressed an openness to the driver listening to whatever the guy wanted. It was mumble rap but that was fine. A person had no troubles losing themselves to personal thoughts with something like that playing in the background.
Roused out of trance by the driver, Orison looked at the dash clock to see that it was three in the morning. They had pulled into a place that looked suspiciously like a nuclear testing facility called Dormitory 1131. While the driver was talking with gate person, Orison felt his conduit stir for a second.
A moment later, four letters appeared in his hands and it only took him a fraction of a second to realize he was standing right next to a mail pickup box. He quickly shoved them into it before he was called over. The gate guard looked at the pick up box that had gave a slightly rusty protest when the young mage shoved the letters in and chuckled.
"If you're lucky, lad, you won't be here long enough to worry about sending anybody mail. I know the place looks a little intimidating but you'd be surprised how much accidental damage a newly awakened can cause when they're trying to figure things out," the slightly overweight and balding guy said.
Orison nodded at the guy as he was led in by a mid forties man in fatigues, looking every bit the part of a drill instructor who didn't want to retire but die of high blood pressure on the job instead.
Sounding a great deal more relaxed but no less authoritative than Orison imagined he would, the man said, "You do not give names and you do not ask for them here. There will be a number on your room and gear, that's what you will use and answer to. Don't worry about how long it will take before you'll leave. You'll leave when we think it's safe for you to leave and not a day sooner.
"This isn't a prison and its not a punishment. You are placed here for your safety and the safety of others. Don't try to run. There are worse places to be and you'll see one if you try to leave before you're cleared to. That's if a patrol doesn't mistake you for rogue. You might not be seeing much of anything, after that.
He was led to a room with plain amenities but there was a decent sized TV and what looked like some kind of gaming console behind a thick window. Not really tired, he picked up the controller and tried it out. It was 8-bit garbage for the most part but there were a couple of classic style rpgs that looked like they could make days melt by while playing. A small refrigerator unit/ vending machine style snack pantry and a closet bathroom insured that a person would never have to be let out of a room at all.
It weirded him out more than a little. The slight tang of negative energy that drifted around didn't help with that feeling. People had died in the room. One was recent enough for Orison's spirit sight to catch a psychic echo they had left behind but the features were far too indistinct to tell anything meaningful about them. He wanted to cleanse the bad energy out but a newly awakened wouldn't have that kind of focus much less know-how.
He decided to force trance until an actual person came to speak with him. It took three days. He didn't think it would take nearly that long and he hoped someone zoning out for that long wouldn't make for that big of a deal considering all the other craziness that almost certainly happened at the place he found himself.
The middle-aged woman who walked though the door and was locked in with him looked slightly aristocratic in an understated way. Loose ringlets of dark hair highlighted with the occasional thin streak of gray cascaded down to just past her shoulders. She looked fairly strong and healthy with the exception of one milky eye that somehow seemed to add gravity to her rather than a sinister air.
"Are you feeling well today, 32?" The lady said.
Orison said, "I'd feel a lot better if this negative energy was cleared out of here, W-1. Do rooms not get aired out after someone dies before another warm body's shoved into it?"
The lady looked around and said, "Think positive. Because they didn't have time to clear it, you have much nicer amenities than some others do. A TV with video games is quite the luxury for a temporary guest... Is that the reason for your hunger strike? I see that you have an E-class sensitivity."
Orison shook his head and said, "I think it's probably safer to be candid with you. I was a little fugue state after being treated crappy at the hospital and shoved in this reusable coffin. I wouldn't have went three days without eating on purpose. In fact, seeing another living face has brought my appetite roaring back. Would it be rude if I grabbed that sandwich out of there and ate while you go through the intro spiel?"
The woman shook her head and said, "On the contrary, I'd be relieved. There's been plenty of people who have reacted poorly to finding themselves here and finding out that your case was a blur of lost time under believable circumstances only makes my job easier. I will, of course, need to make sure that it was an isolated incident which will take a little more time."
Orison swallowed down the first bite dry and hard, barely chewed. "It is. And it wouldn't have happened in the first place if I hadn't been left to rot for three days. Under the current situation, that kind of neglect is abusive under the best light."
She nodded a little sadly. "There aren't many mystic evaluators which means that sometimes newly awakened ones get neglected. Perhaps you could be moved to join that number and help alleviate the strain in a couple or so years."
"Why are there so few? Has no one thought of cross training?" the young mage offered.
The woman closed her eyes for a moment as if to steady herself. "Mystics are few in number across all government postings. Most operate independently and those willing to be a part of an organization chose League over Bureau."
Orison said woodenly, "That suggests a systemic problem with treatment and/ or benefits because I know civilian contracting exists. There's no way others haven't thought of this either. That means there's some screwed up rule or regulation somewhere that is fundamentally unacceptable."
Somewhat heatedly, the woman said, "That's where you're wrong. If anything, independents and League mystics have it worse. The real problem is sitting across from me. Someone who feels slighted by the system, grinds that axe all the way to path day. The League found out a long time ago that if they let the government handle it, they get more recruits that step through their door gladly, with little convincing and less personal risk."
Orison took a sip of bottled water and said, "So it's a grass is greener on the other side dilemma? By not participating, the League's grass always looks greener but the government has no choice but to plod along for everyone's safety? I might have completely believed that if I hadn't spent a handful of days in a hospital interacting with civilian staff.
"I was literally forgotten for three days by everyone but the feeder tube filler, here. A perfectly normal person could actually go insane from being shaken up into a high state of anxiety and left alone that long. Even a prison has guards that pass by to check in every now and then."
She looked at him wryly, "There's a little saying that's passed from guard to guard in the dormitories, 32. Once possessed always a possession risk. Sitting on a bed unmoving for hours is abnormal behavior. They aren't going to break protocol to-"
Orison cut her off, "Speak through the intercom speaker up there in the corner of the room? So they were watching but waiting to see what would happen. After three days, they became worried that I'd die from something my records wouldn't show a reason for. Face it. The government deserves its bad reputation if this is the state of its system.
"But let me be clear. I'm no holy crusader. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible, just like anyone else sealed up in one of these little shoe box hells. Lets start from there."
Like a martyr forced to speak with the devil, her eyes rolled to the ceiling in silent suffering for a moment before she proceeded. It seemed her main job was as a government propaganda specialist and mystic evaluator was only a side gig. Despite that, he did get useful information out of it.
Through a bit of chatter, it became clear that Beta Prime was an alternate Earth. It hadn't been that clear at first because several supernatural incidents had reshaped the geographical layout significantly and his shell hadn't been that good of a student. It didn't help that in the late 1800's, a United Kingdom group called the League of Extraordinaries slowly deviated sociopolitical movements. To keep the growing power of the supernatural group from becoming a titular authority of the entire world in all but name, multiple agreements were reached to consolidate governmental authority. All done in the name of protecting mundane human interests and rights.
In the early 1920's a new calendar was established to commemorate the bipartisan world governments of the progressive west and conservative east. That consolidated even further when an orphaned extraterrestrial with nearly godlike strength sought refuge with the League in AU (in the year of unification) 26. The young man shared the technology used to build a mega city in the southern polar continent of the world, renamed Avalon. In fearful response, the two world governments merged to form a unified world government at the Dragon and Phoenix Treaty.
A few years without planar or alien threats later and the world almost erupted into a global civil war between mundane humans and everything else. To head off a locally caused apocalypse, the UTC (Unified Terran Congress) sat down with the League's triumvirate for over a three month period. During which, they hashed out a global constitution while enduring an endless litany of interruptions from assassination and terrorist attempts. Some of which were successful and still carry hard feelings on both sides.
Once she finished her exposition on why it was in Orison's best interests to maintain UTC citizenship, which included access to almost eighty percent of the world without visa, she finally got to the basic stuff. Newly awakened went through a minimum one week training where stability and safety of mind, body and abilities were evaluated. That could be extended and often was but required a League representative to review for signs of experimentation, torture and indoctrination on a weekly basis.
Because she had to, she included information on standards for those desiring to remain civilian independent and League hopefuls. B-class and higher anything 'needed' to have a permanent residence in one of the reinforced mega cities. Many C-classes were also 'required' to have a home in one as well. Reading between the lines, the truth was that the government was 'required' to provide one. She wanted to paint it as something forced so she could showcase a dubious benefit to live elsewhere if one was a government employee.
Orison thought to himself, "If I work for the government, I can chose to live in a reservation built on one of nature's sh*tholes or on a military base with people who are afraid of and probably also hate me!? Who wants to live in a big city that the League and UTF both monitor for safety and equality standards? Sign me right up!"
She said, "The run down's done. The next part is unpleasant but if there are no surprises, you can mark two weeks on you calendar. Maybe that will grant you some solace in the days to come."
The young mage suppressed a shudder over the implication behind the words.
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Spending the night in a pull-up for adults was insulting but Orison didn't understand the rules and thought that this was quite possibly still part of the testing. He thought it wasn't all bad when he realized he could watch TV through the large window in his door but once it showed inappropriate content and he realized it was yet another way to pry into his mind, he lost interest. When the esper finally arrived, he found he was almost as relieved as he was dreading.
"As per federal law, I am a C-class telepathic esper. My mode of reading is through touch and my range is active thoughts only. Please do not use any kind of imagery training to block reading as it will only result in a longer session and possible consequences... Do you have a preferred method of contact?" the old man said.
Orison said, "How about grabbing left wrists with left hands. We could maybe have a tea or coffee while we talk? No one said it had to be unpleasant, right?"
The old man smiled faintly and said, "No but you'd think someone did with how it usually goes. I wouldn't mind a spot of tea."
While the man's assistant made beverages happen, Orison engaged in light dialog, practicing focusing on the man's words and then mentally reacting to them rather than reacting while the man spoke. It was something that some did naturally and wouldn't come across as using visualization training to block reading even though it very much was, masked under visualizing the reader's words. Judging by the old man's reaction, it was working or the man just didn't care.
Once they were as comfortable as they could be, the man asked, "What is the source of your mystic ability?"
The young mage replied, "I'm not fully certain what 'mystic ability' means but if you're referring to the energy I feel after I became 'special', then it's from absorbing parts of an outsider of unknown origin after it tried to control me."
"How did you resist the control and how did you absorb the parts you obtained?" the old man continued.
Orison answered, "I didn't resist much of anything. Another 'special' scared it off by hurting it and the remnants left behind were what I took in because they were attuned to me, is the best way I can describe it."
The man, "To the best of your knowledge, describe your source."
Orison, "A very small connection to another place that leaks a bit of energy into me."
Using their own expectations and what Ignatius had shared to him about how things like ifrits and devils survived when summoned elsewhere, Orison painted a picture for them. He tweaked his real circumstances to mimic inheriting the connection of a more ambivalent than malevolent entity to its spiritually neutral home plane. 'Possessing' Orison was merely a means to an end in truth, as it had never been about him at all.
Answering questions about his personal history was far more tricky. There were points where the old man even visibly showed some suspicion but the young mage had been cooperative enough for the 'assistant' not to resort to more aggressive measures. They just upped the amount of repetitive questions asked in different ways.
When it seemed like the 'interrogation' was over and the old man showed signs of fatigue, he asked one more question. "Why did you suddenly become, uh, extremely antisocial and uncooperative towards the end of your session with Genevieve?"
Mentally blending together all the people he'd ever met that gave him 'creeper' vibes, Orison said, "What's extreme about not wanting to talk after almost four hours of forced conversation?... I know that she had a job to do that meant she... She tried to convince me that I wanted to be a girl and pressured me into talking about private things, like how I would feel if I was naked. She even threatened to lock me away for three months right after I insisted I didn't want to be her friend. I'm think she's interested in me in ways not related to her job and that scares me a little."
It was all true even if it was taken out of context.
The assistant that was more like a handler of the old man, looked skeptical but then seemed to finally notice that the fully calm and rational teenager was wearing an incontinence aid and nothing else in the self harm risk room. With Orison's personal version of the story and the public story being well matched against the assumed but unverifiable story of the hospital, it started painting Genevieve in a very bad light.
After giving the orderly instructions to move Orison to a regular room and give him a 'decent set of clothes', the assistant left while lending an arm to the old man. Later that afternoon, he received one more set of tests while Karen shot daggers at him. Instead of following a suggested three weeks of therapy and observation, Mark sent Orison to the selected dormitory an hour before sundown.
Out on the road and feeling somewhat like a person again, the young mage engaged in a little meaningless but friendly banter with his driver before realizing they had nothing in common to really talk about. To avoid the ensuing awkward silence, he expressed an openness to the driver listening to whatever the guy wanted. It was mumble rap but that was fine. A person had no troubles losing themselves to personal thoughts with something like that playing in the background.
Roused out of trance by the driver, Orison looked at the dash clock to see that it was three in the morning. They had pulled into a place that looked suspiciously like a nuclear testing facility called Dormitory 1131. While the driver was talking with gate person, Orison felt his conduit stir for a second.
A moment later, four letters appeared in his hands and it only took him a fraction of a second to realize he was standing right next to a mail pickup box. He quickly shoved them into it before he was called over. The gate guard looked at the pick up box that had gave a slightly rusty protest when the young mage shoved the letters in and chuckled.
"If you're lucky, lad, you won't be here long enough to worry about sending anybody mail. I know the place looks a little intimidating but you'd be surprised how much accidental damage a newly awakened can cause when they're trying to figure things out," the slightly overweight and balding guy said.
Orison nodded at the guy as he was led in by a mid forties man in fatigues, looking every bit the part of a drill instructor who didn't want to retire but die of high blood pressure on the job instead.
Sounding a great deal more relaxed but no less authoritative than Orison imagined he would, the man said, "You do not give names and you do not ask for them here. There will be a number on your room and gear, that's what you will use and answer to. Don't worry about how long it will take before you'll leave. You'll leave when we think it's safe for you to leave and not a day sooner.
"This isn't a prison and its not a punishment. You are placed here for your safety and the safety of others. Don't try to run. There are worse places to be and you'll see one if you try to leave before you're cleared to. That's if a patrol doesn't mistake you for rogue. You might not be seeing much of anything, after that.
He was led to a room with plain amenities but there was a decent sized TV and what looked like some kind of gaming console behind a thick window. Not really tired, he picked up the controller and tried it out. It was 8-bit garbage for the most part but there were a couple of classic style rpgs that looked like they could make days melt by while playing. A small refrigerator unit/ vending machine style snack pantry and a closet bathroom insured that a person would never have to be let out of a room at all.
It weirded him out more than a little. The slight tang of negative energy that drifted around didn't help with that feeling. People had died in the room. One was recent enough for Orison's spirit sight to catch a psychic echo they had left behind but the features were far too indistinct to tell anything meaningful about them. He wanted to cleanse the bad energy out but a newly awakened wouldn't have that kind of focus much less know-how.
He decided to force trance until an actual person came to speak with him. It took three days. He didn't think it would take nearly that long and he hoped someone zoning out for that long wouldn't make for that big of a deal considering all the other craziness that almost certainly happened at the place he found himself.
The middle-aged woman who walked though the door and was locked in with him looked slightly aristocratic in an understated way. Loose ringlets of dark hair highlighted with the occasional thin streak of gray cascaded down to just past her shoulders. She looked fairly strong and healthy with the exception of one milky eye that somehow seemed to add gravity to her rather than a sinister air.
"Are you feeling well today, 32?" The lady said.
Orison said, "I'd feel a lot better if this negative energy was cleared out of here, W-1. Do rooms not get aired out after someone dies before another warm body's shoved into it?"
The lady looked around and said, "Think positive. Because they didn't have time to clear it, you have much nicer amenities than some others do. A TV with video games is quite the luxury for a temporary guest... Is that the reason for your hunger strike? I see that you have an E-class sensitivity."
Orison shook his head and said, "I think it's probably safer to be candid with you. I was a little fugue state after being treated crappy at the hospital and shoved in this reusable coffin. I wouldn't have went three days without eating on purpose. In fact, seeing another living face has brought my appetite roaring back. Would it be rude if I grabbed that sandwich out of there and ate while you go through the intro spiel?"
The woman shook her head and said, "On the contrary, I'd be relieved. There's been plenty of people who have reacted poorly to finding themselves here and finding out that your case was a blur of lost time under believable circumstances only makes my job easier. I will, of course, need to make sure that it was an isolated incident which will take a little more time."
Orison swallowed down the first bite dry and hard, barely chewed. "It is. And it wouldn't have happened in the first place if I hadn't been left to rot for three days. Under the current situation, that kind of neglect is abusive under the best light."
She nodded a little sadly. "There aren't many mystic evaluators which means that sometimes newly awakened ones get neglected. Perhaps you could be moved to join that number and help alleviate the strain in a couple or so years."
"Why are there so few? Has no one thought of cross training?" the young mage offered.
The woman closed her eyes for a moment as if to steady herself. "Mystics are few in number across all government postings. Most operate independently and those willing to be a part of an organization chose League over Bureau."
Orison said woodenly, "That suggests a systemic problem with treatment and/ or benefits because I know civilian contracting exists. There's no way others haven't thought of this either. That means there's some screwed up rule or regulation somewhere that is fundamentally unacceptable."
Somewhat heatedly, the woman said, "That's where you're wrong. If anything, independents and League mystics have it worse. The real problem is sitting across from me. Someone who feels slighted by the system, grinds that axe all the way to path day. The League found out a long time ago that if they let the government handle it, they get more recruits that step through their door gladly, with little convincing and less personal risk."
Orison took a sip of bottled water and said, "So it's a grass is greener on the other side dilemma? By not participating, the League's grass always looks greener but the government has no choice but to plod along for everyone's safety? I might have completely believed that if I hadn't spent a handful of days in a hospital interacting with civilian staff.
"I was literally forgotten for three days by everyone but the feeder tube filler, here. A perfectly normal person could actually go insane from being shaken up into a high state of anxiety and left alone that long. Even a prison has guards that pass by to check in every now and then."
She looked at him wryly, "There's a little saying that's passed from guard to guard in the dormitories, 32. Once possessed always a possession risk. Sitting on a bed unmoving for hours is abnormal behavior. They aren't going to break protocol to-"
Orison cut her off, "Speak through the intercom speaker up there in the corner of the room? So they were watching but waiting to see what would happen. After three days, they became worried that I'd die from something my records wouldn't show a reason for. Face it. The government deserves its bad reputation if this is the state of its system.
"But let me be clear. I'm no holy crusader. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible, just like anyone else sealed up in one of these little shoe box hells. Lets start from there."
Like a martyr forced to speak with the devil, her eyes rolled to the ceiling in silent suffering for a moment before she proceeded. It seemed her main job was as a government propaganda specialist and mystic evaluator was only a side gig. Despite that, he did get useful information out of it.
Through a bit of chatter, it became clear that Beta Prime was an alternate Earth. It hadn't been that clear at first because several supernatural incidents had reshaped the geographical layout significantly and his shell hadn't been that good of a student. It didn't help that in the late 1800's, a United Kingdom group called the League of Extraordinaries slowly deviated sociopolitical movements. To keep the growing power of the supernatural group from becoming a titular authority of the entire world in all but name, multiple agreements were reached to consolidate governmental authority. All done in the name of protecting mundane human interests and rights.
In the early 1920's a new calendar was established to commemorate the bipartisan world governments of the progressive west and conservative east. That consolidated even further when an orphaned extraterrestrial with nearly godlike strength sought refuge with the League in AU (in the year of unification) 26. The young man shared the technology used to build a mega city in the southern polar continent of the world, renamed Avalon. In fearful response, the two world governments merged to form a unified world government at the Dragon and Phoenix Treaty.
A few years without planar or alien threats later and the world almost erupted into a global civil war between mundane humans and everything else. To head off a locally caused apocalypse, the UTC (Unified Terran Congress) sat down with the League's triumvirate for over a three month period. During which, they hashed out a global constitution while enduring an endless litany of interruptions from assassination and terrorist attempts. Some of which were successful and still carry hard feelings on both sides.
Once she finished her exposition on why it was in Orison's best interests to maintain UTC citizenship, which included access to almost eighty percent of the world without visa, she finally got to the basic stuff. Newly awakened went through a minimum one week training where stability and safety of mind, body and abilities were evaluated. That could be extended and often was but required a League representative to review for signs of experimentation, torture and indoctrination on a weekly basis.
Because she had to, she included information on standards for those desiring to remain civilian independent and League hopefuls. B-class and higher anything 'needed' to have a permanent residence in one of the reinforced mega cities. Many C-classes were also 'required' to have a home in one as well. Reading between the lines, the truth was that the government was 'required' to provide one. She wanted to paint it as something forced so she could showcase a dubious benefit to live elsewhere if one was a government employee.
Orison thought to himself, "If I work for the government, I can chose to live in a reservation built on one of nature's sh*tholes or on a military base with people who are afraid of and probably also hate me!? Who wants to live in a big city that the League and UTF both monitor for safety and equality standards? Sign me right up!"
She said, "The run down's done. The next part is unpleasant but if there are no surprises, you can mark two weeks on you calendar. Maybe that will grant you some solace in the days to come."
The young mage suppressed a shudder over the implication behind the words.
Spending the night in a pull-up for adults was insulting but Orison didn't understand the rules and thought that this was quite possibly still part of the testing. He thought it wasn't all bad when he realized he could watch TV through the large window in his door but once it showed inappropriate content and he realized it was yet another way to pry into his mind, he lost interest. When the esper finally arrived, he found he was almost as relieved as he was dreading. "As per federal law, I am a C-class telepathic esper. My mode of reading is through touch and my range is active thoughts only. Please do not use any kind of imagery training to block reading as it will only result in a longer session and possible consequences... Do you have a preferred method of contact?" the old man said. Orison said, "How about grabbing left wrists with left hands. We could maybe have a tea or coffee while we talk? No one said it had to be unpleasant, right?" The old man smiled faintly and said, "No but you'd think someone did with how it usually goes. I wouldn't mind a spot of tea." While the man's assistant made beverages happen, Orison engaged in light dialog, practicing focusing on the man's words and then mentally reacting to them rather than reacting while the man spoke. It was something that some did naturally and wouldn't come across as using visualization training to block reading even though it very much was, masked under visualizing the reader's words. Judging by the old man's reaction, it was working or the man just didn't care. Once they were as comfortable as they could be, the man asked, "What is the source of your mystic ability?" The young mage replied, "I'm not fully certain what 'mystic ability' means but if you're referring to the energy I feel after I became 'special', then it's from absorbing parts of an outsider of unknown origin after it tried to control me." "How did you resist the control and how did you absorb the parts you obtained?" the old man continued. Orison answered, "I didn't resist much of anything. Another 'special' scared it off by hurting it and the remnants left behind were what I took in because they were attuned to me, is the best way I can describe it." The man, "To the best of your knowledge, describe your source." Orison, "A very small connection to another place that leaks a bit of energy into me." Using their own expectations and what Ignatius had shared to him about how things like ifrits and devils survived when summoned elsewhere, Orison painted a picture for them. He tweaked his real circumstances to mimic inheriting the connection of a more ambivalent than malevolent entity to its spiritually neutral home plane. 'Possessing' Orison was merely a means to an end in truth, as it had never been about him at all. Answering questions about his personal history was far more tricky. There were points where the old man even visibly showed some suspicion but the young mage had been cooperative enough for the 'assistant' not to resort to more aggressive measures. They just upped the amount of repetitive questions asked in different ways. When it seemed like the 'interrogation' was over and the old man showed signs of fatigue, he asked one more question. "Why did you suddenly become, uh, extremely antisocial and uncooperative towards the end of your session with Genevieve?" Mentally blending together all the people he'd ever met that gave him 'creeper' vibes, Orison said, "What's extreme about not wanting to talk after almost four hours of forced conversation?... I know that she had a job to do that meant she... She tried to convince me that I wanted to be a girl and pressured me into talking about private things, like how I would feel if I was naked. She even threatened to lock me away for three months right after I insisted I didn't want to be her friend. I'm think she's interested in me in ways not related to her job and that scares me a little." It was all true even if it was taken out of context. The assistant that was more like a handler of the old man, looked skeptical but then seemed to finally notice that the fully calm and rational teenager was wearing an incontinence aid and nothing else in the self harm risk room. With Orison's personal version of the story and the public story being well matched against the assumed but unverifiable story of the hospital, it started painting Genevieve in a very bad light. After giving the orderly instructions to move Orison to a regular room and give him a 'decent set of clothes', the assistant left while lending an arm to the old man. Later that afternoon, he received one more set of tests while Karen shot daggers at him. Instead of following a suggested three weeks of therapy and observation, Mark sent Orison to the selected dormitory an hour before sundown. Out on the road and feeling somewhat like a person again, the young mage engaged in a little meaningless but friendly banter with his driver before realizing they had nothing in common to really talk about. To avoid the ensuing awkward silence, he expressed an openness to the driver listening to whatever the guy wanted. It was mumble rap but that was fine. A person had no troubles losing themselves to personal thoughts with something like that playing in the background. Roused out of trance by the driver, Orison looked at the dash clock to see that it was three in the morning. They had pulled into a place that looked suspiciously like a nuclear testing facility called Dormitory 1131. While the driver was talking with gate person, Orison felt his conduit stir for a second. A moment later, four letters appeared in his hands and it only took him a fraction of a second to realize he was standing right next to a mail pickup box. He quickly shoved them into it before he was called over. The gate guard looked at the pick up box that had gave a slightly rusty protest when the young mage shoved the letters in and chuckled. "If you're lucky, lad, you won't be here long enough to worry about sending anybody mail. I know the place looks a little intimidating but you'd be surprised how much accidental damage a newly awakened can cause when they're trying to figure things out," the slightly overweight and balding guy said. Orison nodded at the guy as he was led in by a mid forties man in fatigues, looking every bit the part of a drill instructor who didn't want to retire but die of high blood pressure on the job instead. Sounding a great deal more relaxed but no less authoritative than Orison imagined he would, the man said, "You do not give names and you do not ask for them here. There will be a number on your room and gear, that's what you will use and answer to. Don't worry about how long it will take before you'll leave. You'll leave when we think it's safe for you to leave and not a day sooner. "This isn't a prison and its not a punishment. You are placed here for your safety and the safety of others. Don't try to run. There are worse places to be and you'll see one if you try to leave before you're cleared to. That's if a patrol doesn't mistake you for rogue. You might not be seeing much of anything, after that. He was led to a room with plain amenities but there was a decent sized TV and what looked like some kind of gaming console behind a thick window. Not really tired, he picked up the controller and tried it out. It was 8-bit garbage for the most part but there were a couple of classic style rpgs that looked like they could make days melt by while playing. A small refrigerator unit/ vending machine style snack pantry and a closet bathroom insured that a person would never have to be let out of a room at all. It weirded him out more than a little. The slight tang of negative energy that drifted around didn't help with that feeling. People had died in the room. One was recent enough for Orison's spirit sight to catch a psychic echo they had left behind but the features were far too indistinct to tell anything meaningful about them. He wanted to cleanse the bad energy out but a newly awakened wouldn't have that kind of focus much less know-how. He decided to force trance until an actual person came to speak with him. It took three days. He didn't think it would take nearly that long and he hoped someone zoning out for that long wouldn't make for that big of a deal considering all the other craziness that almost certainly happened at the place he found himself. The middle-aged woman who walked though the door and was locked in with him looked slightly aristocratic in an understated way. Loose ringlets of dark hair highlighted with the occasional thin streak of gray cascaded down to just past her shoulders. She looked fairly strong and healthy with the exception of one milky eye that somehow seemed to add gravity to her rather than a sinister air. "Are you feeling well today, 32?" The lady said. Orison said, "I'd feel a lot better if this negative energy was cleared out of here, W-1. Do rooms not get aired out after someone dies before another warm body's shoved into it?" The lady looked around and said, "Think positive. Because they didn't have time to clear it, you have much nicer amenities than some others do. A TV with video games is quite the luxury for a temporary guest... Is that the reason for your hunger strike? I see that you have an E-class sensitivity." Orison shook his head and said, "I think it's probably safer to be candid with you. I was a little fugue state after being treated crappy at the hospital and shoved in this reusable coffin. I wouldn't have went three days without eating on purpose. In fact, seeing another living face has brought my appetite roaring back. Would it be rude if I grabbed that sandwich out of there and ate while you go through the intro spiel?" The woman shook her head and said, "On the contrary, I'd be relieved. There's been plenty of people who have reacted poorly to finding themselves here and finding out that your case was a blur of lost time under believable circumstances only makes my job easier. I will, of course, need to make sure that it was an isolated incident which will take a little more time." Orison swallowed down the first bite dry and hard, barely chewed. "It is. And it wouldn't have happened in the first place if I hadn't been left to rot for three days. Under the current situation, that kind of neglect is abusive under the best light." She nodded a little sadly. "There aren't many mystic evaluators which means that sometimes newly awakened ones get neglected. Perhaps you could be moved to join that number and help alleviate the strain in a couple or so years." "Why are there so few? Has no one thought of cross training?" the young mage offered. The woman closed her eyes for a moment as if to steady herself. "Mystics are few in number across all government postings. Most operate independently and those willing to be a part of an organization chose League over Bureau." Orison said woodenly, "That suggests a systemic problem with treatment and/ or benefits because I know civilian contracting exists. There's no way others haven't thought of this either. That means there's some screwed up rule or regulation somewhere that is fundamentally unacceptable." Somewhat heatedly, the woman said, "That's where you're wrong. If anything, independents and League mystics have it worse. The real problem is sitting across from me. Someone who feels slighted by the system, grinds that axe all the way to path day. The League found out a long time ago that if they let the government handle it, they get more recruits that step through their door gladly, with little convincing and less personal risk." Orison took a sip of bottled water and said, "So it's a grass is greener on the other side dilemma? By not participating, the League's grass always looks greener but the government has no choice but to plod along for everyone's safety? I might have completely believed that if I hadn't spent a handful of days in a hospital interacting with civilian staff. "I was literally forgotten for three days by everyone but the feeder tube filler, here. A perfectly normal person could actually go insane from being shaken up into a high state of anxiety and left alone that long. Even a prison has guards that pass by to check in every now and then." She looked at him wryly, "There's a little saying that's passed from guard to guard in the dormitories, 32. Once possessed always a possession risk. Sitting on a bed unmoving for hours is abnormal behavior. They aren't going to break protocol to-" Orison cut her off, "Speak through the intercom speaker up there in the corner of the room? So they were watching but waiting to see what would happen. After three days, they became worried that I'd die from something my records wouldn't show a reason for. Face it. The government deserves its bad reputation if this is the state of its system. "But let me be clear. I'm no holy crusader. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible, just like anyone else sealed up in one of these little shoe box hells. Lets start from there." Like a martyr forced to speak with the devil, her eyes rolled to the ceiling in silent suffering for a moment before she proceeded. It seemed her main job was as a government propaganda specialist and mystic evaluator was only a side gig. Despite that, he did get useful information out of it. Through a bit of chatter, it became clear that Beta Prime was an alternate Earth. It hadn't been that clear at first because several supernatural incidents had reshaped the geographical layout significantly and his shell hadn't been that good of a student. It didn't help that in the late 1800's, a United Kingdom group called the League of Extraordinaries slowly deviated sociopolitical movements. To keep the growing power of the supernatural group from becoming a titular authority of the entire world in all but name, multiple agreements were reached to consolidate governmental authority. All done in the name of protecting mundane human interests and rights. In the early 1920's a new calendar was established to commemorate the bipartisan world governments of the progressive west and conservative east. That consolidated even further when an orphaned extraterrestrial with nearly godlike strength sought refuge with the League in AU in the year of unification 26. The young man shared the technology used to build a mega city in the southern polar continent of the world, renamed Avalon. In fearful response, the two world governments merged to form a unified world government at the Dragon and Phoenix Treaty. A few years without planar or alien threats later and the world almost erupted into a global civil war between mundane humans and everything else. To head off a locally caused apocalypse, the UTC Unified Terran Congress sat down with the League's triumvirate for over a three month period. During which, they hashed out a global constitution while enduring an endless litany of interruptions from assassination and terrorist attempts. Some of which were successful and still carry hard feelings on both sides. Once she finished her exposition on why it was in Orison's best interests to maintain UTC citizenship, which included access to almost eighty percent of the world without visa, she finally got to the basic stuff. Newly awakened went through a minimum one week training where stability and safety of mind, body and abilities were evaluated. That could be extended and often was but required a League representative to review for signs of experimentation, torture and indoctrination on a weekly basis. Because she had to, she included information on standards for those desiring to remain civilian independent and League hopefuls. B-class and higher anything 'needed' to have a permanent residence in one of the reinforced mega cities. Many C-classes were also 'required' to have a home in one as well. Reading between the lines, the truth was that the government was 'required' to provide one. She wanted to paint it as something forced so she could showcase a dubious benefit to live elsewhere if one was a government employee. Orison thought to himself, "If I work for the government, I can chose to live in a reservation built on one of nature's sh*tholes or on a military base with people who are afraid of and probably also hate me!? Who wants to live in a big city that the League and UTF both monitor for safety and equality standards? Sign me right up!" She said, "The run down's done. The next part is unpleasant but if there are no surprises, you can mark two weeks on you calendar. Maybe that will grant you some solace in the days to come." The young mage suppressed a shudder over the implication behind the words.
