[center] » Cadence «[/center]

[b]“I don’t think you can help me,”[/b] the woman replied. [b]“They… gave me something… made me sick.”[/b]

Cadie nodded at the other female. With her bandaged left eye and her bones practically showing through her skin, the Mutant was not exactly a poster child for good patient care. Sometimes they gave her hallucinogens when she went into ‘therapy’, just to make the giant TV screen seem a little more intense. She could certainly sympathize with drugs made to hurt instead of help. And the red-eyed woman was also correct in that there wasn’t much Cadence could do about it.

Right about then, the mutant waif realized that the other patient’s fingernails were turning into claws and [i]digging into the table.[/i] This was clearly someone of sizeable strength, and though the she seemed to be struggling to keep calm her breaths were ragged. The expression on her face was pained, and almost angry.

Something else Cadence could sympathize with… especially when she thought of her impending stomach implant.

[b]“Wait; there is something you can do for me. Could you get me a drink?”[/b] the white-haired female asked.

The Mutant nodded, hoping it wouldn’t be too complicated a task. When the other girl raised her hand, her nails left splintery divots in the plywood and laminate that composed the table. She gestured to the carnivore steam line. Then she took several deep breaths, as if steadying herself.

[b]“Those silver coloured bags there. Can you see them? If you could bring me two.”[/b]

It took a few seconds for Cadie to finally locate the silver bags her fellow patient was referring to. She wasn’t very familiar with that side of the food line; although the Mutant ate a vast [i]amount[/i], her menu was relatively tame. For a moment, she wished Jax was there: he would have been happy to do the leg work. But he was in therapy downstairs, and Cadence was up here on her own… with someone who needed help.

Briefly, and on an almost subconscious level, Cadie did a calculation in her head. Thin as she was, her body still weighed at least eighty pounds and it was about twenty-five feet from her table to the steam line. So to get up and go get the bags she’d have to move eighty pounds fifty feet. [i]Or[/i] she could just use her powers and move five pounds twenty five feet.

The answer was obvious.

It had been a long time since the Mutant had willingly used her telekinesis. Though it had almost been like a cherished pet of hers during childhood, it had grown into a savage beast. The Institute had collared it, put a finite ceiling on how much damage it could do… but sometimes the waif still cringed when she opened the door to the cage.

Yet for all the times it struck without her command, it had never disobeyed her when given a specific order. It was still like feeling her own willpower solidify -in this case, around two of those silver bags- and follow her focus up into the air. She drew them across the room effortlessly, two willing little pets that docilely floated past the head of another patient who was staring blankly into his soup. Setting things down gently was always the hardest part: the impulse is to just [i]let go[/i] but if you do it that way items crash and bounce. The trick Cadie had learned was to select a spot on the table where you wanted to put it, and then distinctly put it down before letting go. Just like you’d do with your actual hand.

So the two silver bags settled themselves down smoothly just in front of the white-haired woman.

One of the added perks of not physically getting up to fetch the bags was that Cadie didn’t have to stop eating. She’d actually torn a large bite from the sub while using her ‘invisible hand’ to get the other patient’s lunch. She chewed and swallowed as the things landed, glancing sideways and giving the other woman a small… even slightly shy… smile. Because this was generally the part where people freaked out.

“There you go,” the Mutant said in her usual, soft voice. She licked her lips, and then took a sip of her raspberry fizz.