max | nyx (
motherofnemesis) wrote2036-10-21 05:33 pm
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ic contact
"This is Max, leave a name and number and tell me what you want.
I may or may not get back to you."
[ leave a message, call her, come drop by her apartment. ]
I may or may not get back to you."
[ leave a message, call her, come drop by her apartment. ]
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Yeah. [ One sharp nod, a slow breath out. ] Deal. [ And that's that, because if she doesn't leave right now she won't. She lifts her hands from his knees to his face, for a split second uncaring that it might hurt, and presses her lips to the top of his head for a long moment before stepping away and moving towards the door as fast as can still be called a walk. ]
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also okay are we going to describe like, what they do individually or skip to the next stage or combine them or have a new thread for that or
i'm cool with continuing here there's only (hah) 77 comments in this thread so far, and sort of describing how things go a little bit and putting them back together relatively quickly. ]
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She finds herself on the roof eventually, which she thinks must be because someone up top said she was allowed to. She's good at ducking security, sure, but this is a SHIELD building and she's unprepared and hardly at the top of her game.
But that's the last truly coherent thought she has for a little bit, because that's about when her shields and her organization and her walls finally just fail the way they've been threatening to ever since she left that place and her mind essentially whites out. She finds a wall to sit down against and tilts her head to the sun so she can at least feel that, a mild help because it's proof she's outside, and she lets herself stop trying to think at all until some of this fades away and leaves space for starting to reorganize.
The first true thought to come back, eventually, is the driving need to be sorted enough to find Tony. It's going to take a while to achieve that, she thinks, but it's motivation to at least start to try to solve the mess her head has become. ]
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But right now he's taking advantage of her leaving to let himself curl up even further, to attempt to fall onto the cot until he touches it and realizes that that is actually a horrible idea, that he ought to just curl in on himself and try to force everything down. He used to do this by himself before he met her - it shouldn't be that difficult to do it again, right?
By the time the Guide returns, Tony is more or less sitting on the cot with his legs pulled up to his chest and his head resting on his knees, blocking out as much as he can and attempting to at the very least focus on the things that aren't as bad. The constancy of the reactor's hum, the feel of it. He's attempting to ignore smell and taste entirely, because a medical area is never the best for either of those, and sight is closed to the inside of his eyelids and the dimness of the room. At some point he's vaguely aware of the Guide pulling at his senses, coaxing maneuvering him into a more relaxed position, using the blanket and cleaning him up a bit of the dirt and dried blood, but he's more or less similarly out of it for a little while. ]
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Except she's not - she won't go back to him unless she's sure she can shove everything far enough down that she can help him. How she shoves it down doesn't matter to her, if she can just bury if she can finish dealing with it some other time, delay the problem, but she's having trouble even managing just walling it up right now. Her eyes may be open, but it's pretty clear that she's not really receiving any input from them or much of anything right now, stuck fairly firmly in her own head and the slow, slow drag back out.
She just needs to fix this a little and then she can find Tony and it will be okay. Things are okay with him around. ]
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Naturally, the first thing he does is try to find her. He can tell more or less how long it's been, and when he asks what room she's in, he's directed upstairs. Actually he's directed somewhere that gives him a moment or two of pause. It's not that it doesn't make sense, it's that the way it's phrased, the way that's all the information given, makes it sound like that's the only place she's been.
Of course, when he gets up there and finds her, it's obvious that this is true, and his initial irritation is only overcome by the fact that he can tell she's still not okay. ] Hey, hey. [ Sinking to first his knees, then to sit on his heels in front of her, reaching out for her hand, or something, even as he reaches out with his own very recently patched mind. ] Look at me, okay.
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By the time he makes his way up to the roof she's sitting cross legged against the wall, hands resting palm up on her knees. Her meditation might not be doing so great, but the repetitious nature of the mantra is helping a little.
It takes him reaching out with his mind for her to focus on him, glancing down at his hand and then up at him. It might not be great focus, but she definitely sees him now. Shit. She'd wanted to get to him before he had to come looking for her. How long has she even been up here? ] Tony. [ She clears her throat and shakes her head, keeps her shields firmly up. ] You don't want in there. [ Meaning her head and everything associated with that. Is she good enough to fake it yet? She doesn't think so. ]
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[ Even if she won't let him in, it doesn't mean he can't still extend himself around her, try and alleviate the pressure at least, give her shields a little bit of a break. ]
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But at that she blinks up at him, confused, shakes her head a little. ] Said I was going to get the Guide for you. Not me. [ She can hold onto his hand, she'll allow that, and her grip might be a little tighter than she intends but she loosens it after a moment, remembers he's probably still sensitive. ] Are you okay? [ She can focus on that, on the slight relief his additional support is adding if she's not comfortable yet with the idea of letting him see the mess her mind currently is. She generally has it together when he's in her mind. ]
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I'm fine. [ Which is more or less (my god i use this phrase a lot suddenly) the truth. He is fine, right now, he's got everything at the very least within upper-but-manageable levels. He won't be fine in a little while, but that's not something he needs to divulge. That'll probably become obvious when it happens. ]
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Sorry. I can do this, it's okay. [ What exactly she's trying to tell him there isn't really very clear, but it's somewhere between he doesn't have to stay and that it won't be too long until she can at least fake it enough to fool him and keep her going until she can sleep some of it off. ]
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Okay. [ It's just that simple word and she opens up a little bit, lets him into the parts of her mind that she's started locking down, things packed back under lock and key where they belong. The rest of it is still nearby and heavy in its presence, but she's not willing to let him into it. Not the worst of things, because he can't sort it out for her and therefore he doesn't need to be exposed to it. His presence alone is helping more than she had thought possible, really. ] You're already helping, though.
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He waits while she deliberates, just continuing what he was already doing and trying to brace himself in the chance she agrees, work out what he'll do and how okay he'll be if she refuses again. But when she does, when she opens up even that little bit and lets him in, he's an oddly calm presence soaking into the spaces she's left open. If she were in his mind - and he doesn't know if she can sense it right now regardless, since they're so close and she seems so hyperaware right now - it wouldn't be this calm. It would be frenetic, jostled and bustling, a little buzz like electricity and the slight sense of uncomfortable potential shock as a result. That's really nothing too out of the ordinary - it's usually at least the first three anyway. But this is one area he's oddly good at compartmentalizing for, projecting or producing one outward idea while possessing a different internal one. A lifetime of interviews - he can't school his face as well as he probably ought to, but he can direct his energy. ]
Yeah, you know me. Gotta be proactive. Hands-on.
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The rest of his mind is there too, and it might have been overwhelming in the bustle of it but she's concentrating on the calm he's providing, taking it and centering herself around it as her breathing slows to something more even and modulated. It's surprisingly effective, an anchor in a storm and maybe she should have expected that, should have just said yes right away, but she didn't want him to have to do this for her. ] 'm sorry. [ Mumbled against his shoulder as she drinks up everything he's giving her, takes the respite to slam things back under lock and key where they belong. ] I'll take a shower. Clean off the blood. Just a minute.
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She seems a little more coherent, a little bit better, but he isn't going to let up what he's doing until she actually tells him she doesn't need it anymore, and when he stops he can tell that she's telling the truth. Until all of those stipulations are met and satisfied, he is going to keep doing as much as he can for her, as much as she'll accept, and he'll hold her in return as much as she'll allow. ] Whenever you want to. I've smelled worse. [ Technically. This is worse in terms of the context, but he's smelled worse in terms of sheer odor. ]
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A very shaky some kind of laugh at that and she shakes her head slowly. Very slowly, that's an unpleasant sensation. But the grip of her hand is turning into something more regulated, not loose because she's forced it to be but a more normal looseness of consideration for his senses, and the extent of what she's letting him see is spreading as she uses the calm he's giving her to settle things away for dealing with much, much later. ] You're not doing a very good job of being mad at me.
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He's also not going to say anything one way or the other about her grip loosening, because it did hurt, and he's glad she's letting up, but if she needs to hod tightly onto him, he's not going to refuse her the right. But as she lets him see more, he spreads his influence, touching what he can, surrounding what he's not allowed to see with bubbles that hopefully at least abate some of the sensitivity, some of the pain. He doesn't think that whatever it is that he's doing here - because this is all instinctual, and rationaled; he has no idea what he's actually doing right now - is going to be a permanent nor even the solution. She won't be fixed until later, nor will he. But they can at least both aim for functional right now. That'll be plenty. ]
I'm saving it for later. Getting angry with you now defeats the point.
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It's been so long since she's had a Sentinel to do this with that she'd entirely forgotten how surprisingly effective they could be, despite the lack of empathy except as relates to Guides. It's seemed like the natural choice for a long time, to isolate herself and do it alone, but right now she's having to rethink that a little because the anchor of his mind and the intent he's putting behind this is working. She can do functional. With him, she can at least hit functional. And that'll be enough for now. ]
Generous of you. I'm - I'm good to move. [ And she means it. There's a lot still to fix, but if he's still nearby she'll be all right to move somewhere more comfortable for him, be able to keep it together and also keep working on fixing this. Maybe soon she'll be able to check his mind, see how well he's been patched up, see if she can't give him something in return. Maybe. ]
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Honestly he's sort of surprised whatever he did worked. He doesn't know if that was instinct or intuition or intimate knowledge of her being, but he's glad that it did work. He'd just like to know the how of the whole thing for later. ]
Because I'm okay, we can stay here a little while longer until you're more secure, if you need it. [ Rebounding and perpetuating the same cycles over and over again doesn't seem like a great idea. Get at least one of them in good shape and then the other can follow. ]
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She's a little surprised herself, that he figured out some way to help her so well, but then he does know her very well, and she has become very used to using his presence as an anchor of sorts. It was easy to seize on the feeling of his presence again, and then he'd worked at it, and it was really helpful. ]
I don't know. Maybe. It can't be comfortable out here for you. [ Mumbled a little against his shirt, and he's changed, they gave him Sentinel clothes, that's nice. That's good, she should go get changed too and clean up and wear something it doesn't hurt him to touch, so that she's not bothering him. ] I think I'm good to move.
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It's probably the combination of knowing her well and a natural ability to fix things. Not that she needs fixing, but simply that the process is somewhat similar, in the manner by which he approaches most obstacles. But regardless of how it worked, he's happy that it did.
He shifts a little bit, because it's... not, but he's still pretty sure he's in better shape than she is right now. ] It's not that bad. I've had worse. [ Which is a fairly horrible attempt at levity, but. It has the benefit of at least being true. He would prefer to be inside though, with her cleaned up and any potential injuries seen to. He is himself bandaged up, and he's not totally happy about the way the adhesive tugs at his skin with certain movements, the elastic in the wrapping, but it's on the way to feeling better and for the moment he doesn't have the energy to be the poor patient his temperament would prefer. ] We're just gonna stand up then, okay? Let me know if you're not good.
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Right now she wouldn't really mind him calling it fixing her. It's a phrasing that normally she finds really repugnant, just because of the connotations to it, the way it tends to make her feel a little less human, a lot more like a resource that needs protecting. With him it's different. He's trying to help because he cares about her. With him fixing is a positive thing, something she can accept right now easily. ]
Don't remind me. [ She didn't handle this relatively short happening very well, if she thinks about him having had worse right now she's going to want to kill people again. He is probably in better shape than her, but she's okay to be around people a little, she thinks. Enough to get pulled together physically, and then she won't be bothering him just by her presence, and showering will give her a little bit longer to gather herself and then she'll be with him and they'll be able to help each other. It's all going to be fine. She nods, doesn't try to respond to that out loud because she's concentrating on hauling herself up with his help, stumbling a little but overall okay. Her hands spread out for a moment, to demonstrate that she's more or less stable on her feet, but return to him almost immediately. ] I'm still good.
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He stands up with her, slowly, at her own pace, because he's not really having too many problems with movement right now and the slow is okay. He waits for her to get to her feet, to steady herself and test standing without him, to come back and grab a hold of him and then tell him that she's okay. She's still okay, and his senses - he still can't completely turn them off, there's a buzzing under his skin, behind his eyes - indicate that this is the truth. He believed her anyway, but the subconscious affirmation is nice to have regardless.
But he lets her hold on to him however is best for her, whether that's holding on to his arm or with his arm around her shoulders, or what, and slowly starts to take them back down to their current room. She still needs to be checked for injuries, although he's sort of doing that as they go. If she doesn't have any, they can be switched to one of the overnight rooms the agents stay in. Just the pair of them, but it's isolated, quiet, soft, and would be just the two of them and whomever happens to be sleeping nearby. He'd prefer it, but she needs to be okay first. Really okay, not whatever kind of medium okay this happens to be at the moment. ]
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Right now lying is still the thing that comes first to her, most easily, but she knows telling the truth with him is important, even if right now she couldn't articulate precisely why it's so important. Just that he trusts her, and therefore she has to tell the truth. So she's only saying things she means, and if she's not great she is at least all right enough to go downstairs, supported in fair part by his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist.
There's nothing spectacularly wrong with her, or at least nothing she would consider particularly bad. The gunshot graze on her arm and the cut on her face from that last strike with the pistol she'd incited are the worst of it, really, everything else just bruising. It hurts, but it's nothing that needs more than cleaning in her opinion. But she supposes those two things do need to be sorted out, especially as she's just left them more or less exposed for hours. ] Don't go? [ A quiet request as they near the room where she knows the nurses are waiting to check her over, because she's better and people aren't going to crush her but she still - she wants him near. She's never liked hospitals much at all. ]
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