17 [ Broadcast Mind ]
[There are books everywhere, but you’ve read them all. The papers that litter the floor are your own notes. In the midst of them, you sit, puzzling over this wording, that phrasing while one particular piece of paper lies in front of you, obscured by more notes. Only the very top of the page is visible, what resembles a serpent’s tail peeking out from underneath. There’s a little book of matches nearby, and from the glass of water next to it with several spent matches in it already, you’ve been at this for a while.
The theories are right there in front of you, written in your own handwriting -the translations, the scientific method, everything... and yet there’s still something you can’t seem to grasp. Still something that eludes you.
Control.
You have to master the basics before you can add to it, and for some reason, getting it to work has not been in your favor. There’s still something missing.
You’ve tried what feels like hundreds of variations, but there’s always something else, something just on the tip of your tongue, present but unreachable. But this time, this time, you’re going to get it right.
The sharp tip of the knife cuts your fingertip, the blood welling to the surface quickly, and you scribble out yet another design on the back of your other hand. It’s a little sloppy, and your fingers are sore from repeated cuts because you couldn't find an inkwell, but it’ll do. While that begins to dry, you grab another match. Down to the last ones, and they're a little hard to come by when you only have a short time allotted to you off base so the pressure is on.
A slow, deep breath to calm yourself and clear your mind as you call on everything you’ve read and studied. The emblem of blood on your skin glows blue for an instant as the match is struck...
...and you’re rewarded with a miniature fireball that blows up in your face.
But it worked! You’re slightly singed and it might be a little while before your eyebrows grow back in completely, but it worked! And for the first time in a long time, you’re excited because this is the first step to achieving your dreams. Now you'll just have to worry about finding a way to draw your eyebrows back on before the wake up call sounds.]
The theories are right there in front of you, written in your own handwriting -the translations, the scientific method, everything... and yet there’s still something you can’t seem to grasp. Still something that eludes you.
Control.
You have to master the basics before you can add to it, and for some reason, getting it to work has not been in your favor. There’s still something missing.
You’ve tried what feels like hundreds of variations, but there’s always something else, something just on the tip of your tongue, present but unreachable. But this time, this time, you’re going to get it right.
The sharp tip of the knife cuts your fingertip, the blood welling to the surface quickly, and you scribble out yet another design on the back of your other hand. It’s a little sloppy, and your fingers are sore from repeated cuts because you couldn't find an inkwell, but it’ll do. While that begins to dry, you grab another match. Down to the last ones, and they're a little hard to come by when you only have a short time allotted to you off base so the pressure is on.
A slow, deep breath to calm yourself and clear your mind as you call on everything you’ve read and studied. The emblem of blood on your skin glows blue for an instant as the match is struck...
...and you’re rewarded with a miniature fireball that blows up in your face.
But it worked! You’re slightly singed and it might be a little while before your eyebrows grow back in completely, but it worked! And for the first time in a long time, you’re excited because this is the first step to achieving your dreams. Now you'll just have to worry about finding a way to draw your eyebrows back on before the wake up call sounds.]