13 - Sinister and Jean (current)
After their 'goodbye' in the office, Jean was irritated with the doctor. He was such an ass, and being away from him once more had removed that feeling of being cowed. His mind was too boring to think about trying to enter while he was conscious. She'd done it once before; the human/mutant genome was goddamned tedium.
It was nice being back in her bed. She could stretch out, roll over without the IV in her arm tugging uncomfortably, lay in one place for an hour without being prodded for a temperature or a blood pressure reading. Then again, she seemed to have some kind of psychic energy backup going. She'd kept her mind to herself for too long, and she was relieved to hear the occasional thought creep in when she wasn't expecting it.
When sleep was a long time coming, she got antsy, and that energy backup seemed to be crying out for use. Being that she was already irritated with him, the object of her interest became Dr. Milbury. She reached out, searching out his mind. She found him, the obvious weight of unconsciousness holding onto his mind. Grinning to herself, Jean skimmed into his thoughts, finding that he was dreaming.
The unconscious mind was different than the conscious one; harder to navigate, since there was no logical order to the thoughts. Currently, he was dreaming about being in the medlabs. His attention was on the chart in front of him, the words blurred and unimportant. When he looked up, Jean seeing from his perspective, she noted the patient.
And she laughed out loud as she saw herself laying on the table. His perception of her was skewed from that of her own. Her skin was paler, her hair a deeper, brighter shade of red than reality, her eyes nearly glowing. Jean watched the dream through his eyes, noting the calm demeanor of her doppelganger. She smiled honestly. She was subservient. She was very much not Jean.
Interesting.
Jean nudged a little, focusing hard on guiding the dream. For her, guiding thought was like a dolphin gliding through water. Guiding dream was like trying to walk through half-set, waist deep cement. It was possible, but not without a lot of effort. The Jean he was dreaming about turned her head, smiling at him. Jean shifted her own consciousness into that Jean, working hard on controlling her. Soon, she was looking up at Dr. Milbury, his appearance the same but... different, somehow. It seemed to shift. Whatever it was, she was inside his dream now, doing what she could to infiltrate.
"Is everything okay, Dr?" Her voice seemed to almost have an echo.
It was nice being back in her bed. She could stretch out, roll over without the IV in her arm tugging uncomfortably, lay in one place for an hour without being prodded for a temperature or a blood pressure reading. Then again, she seemed to have some kind of psychic energy backup going. She'd kept her mind to herself for too long, and she was relieved to hear the occasional thought creep in when she wasn't expecting it.
When sleep was a long time coming, she got antsy, and that energy backup seemed to be crying out for use. Being that she was already irritated with him, the object of her interest became Dr. Milbury. She reached out, searching out his mind. She found him, the obvious weight of unconsciousness holding onto his mind. Grinning to herself, Jean skimmed into his thoughts, finding that he was dreaming.
The unconscious mind was different than the conscious one; harder to navigate, since there was no logical order to the thoughts. Currently, he was dreaming about being in the medlabs. His attention was on the chart in front of him, the words blurred and unimportant. When he looked up, Jean seeing from his perspective, she noted the patient.
And she laughed out loud as she saw herself laying on the table. His perception of her was skewed from that of her own. Her skin was paler, her hair a deeper, brighter shade of red than reality, her eyes nearly glowing. Jean watched the dream through his eyes, noting the calm demeanor of her doppelganger. She smiled honestly. She was subservient. She was very much not Jean.
Interesting.
Jean nudged a little, focusing hard on guiding the dream. For her, guiding thought was like a dolphin gliding through water. Guiding dream was like trying to walk through half-set, waist deep cement. It was possible, but not without a lot of effort. The Jean he was dreaming about turned her head, smiling at him. Jean shifted her own consciousness into that Jean, working hard on controlling her. Soon, she was looking up at Dr. Milbury, his appearance the same but... different, somehow. It seemed to shift. Whatever it was, she was inside his dream now, doing what she could to infiltrate.
"Is everything okay, Dr?" Her voice seemed to almost have an echo.