I heard a thing once... [ota]
Life in this base was not settling well with Ophelia. She barely spent any time in her own room due to the mixed sets of emotions coming from all directions. She barely had control over things and little bursts of power seemed to ebb out of her at times.
On occasion, she found herself reliving random moments of emotional withdrawal mixed with the occasional spike in insanity or anger. She couldn't keep them from swirling and coiling in and around her. It felt like the asylum all over again and Ophelia was quickly regressing towards that mind set.
But there were so many people here, so many people that she actually knew; Ric and Martini, their friends, Victor and his little growler, Tabitha and her ever present bouncy nature. Not to mention the other empath. She'd picked up enough from that to know what second hand emotions felt like; when they didn't come directly from the person but from a person who took from a person. She figured it was like passive empathy or something similar.
With her mindset quickly failing her, Ophelia was drawing in on herself. Finding a tree to hide in, crouching in corners, skittering around the kitchens. She'd burnt herself three times on the stoves before the chef had chased her out -although the direction she was supposed to head in was the medical center, she ended up in the training center. She was sure she had intended to find a doctor. Instead she waded into the pool, lowering her stinging, hot hand in the water before hissing and pulling it out.
Chlorine, it seemed, was not a good method to cool her hand.
On occasion, she found herself reliving random moments of emotional withdrawal mixed with the occasional spike in insanity or anger. She couldn't keep them from swirling and coiling in and around her. It felt like the asylum all over again and Ophelia was quickly regressing towards that mind set.
But there were so many people here, so many people that she actually knew; Ric and Martini, their friends, Victor and his little growler, Tabitha and her ever present bouncy nature. Not to mention the other empath. She'd picked up enough from that to know what second hand emotions felt like; when they didn't come directly from the person but from a person who took from a person. She figured it was like passive empathy or something similar.
With her mindset quickly failing her, Ophelia was drawing in on herself. Finding a tree to hide in, crouching in corners, skittering around the kitchens. She'd burnt herself three times on the stoves before the chef had chased her out -although the direction she was supposed to head in was the medical center, she ended up in the training center. She was sure she had intended to find a doctor. Instead she waded into the pool, lowering her stinging, hot hand in the water before hissing and pulling it out.
Chlorine, it seemed, was not a good method to cool her hand.