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Nicky groaned for what felt like the millionth time in just a few minutes. Crawford's 'talk' had been a bunch of bullshit meant to make her feel better, and maybe there was some stuff to think about, but Nicole MacNamara had never really been one to think too hard about much. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at the popcorn ceiling of the office from her position lying stretched out on a third- or fourth-hand couch that had been dragged in for her. The material was probably scratchy and old, but she couldn't really tell. She had told the doctor that, but except for various stabs and pokes, they hadn't really been able to figure out why she couldn't feel anything. What they [i]had[/i] figured out was that most of her senses were fine, but touch and taste were both all but gone. Doctor Grisham had been especially confused about her sense of taste, since her nose worked perfectly fine. All Nicky knew it meant was yet [i]another[/i] thing that she wouldn't be able to enjoy ever again.

She reached out one pale, lanky arm and snagged a pencil from the pile they had left her, next to a spiral notebook and a sketch pad. Ostensibly, these were to help alleviate boredom, and possibly let her write her feelings down, but she hated that sort of thing, so she was mildly amusing herself with trying to stick the pencils into the ceiling. She got three before the first one fell from the impacts. She flinched before she knew what she was doing, and then cursed at herself. If bullets and knives couldn't hurt her, a pencil didn't stand a chance. [i][color=azure]At least my reflexes aren't gone, I guess.[/color][/i]

The loss of time was bugging her the most. She couldn't concentrate on how long anything took, and her brain just kinda made up whatever it thought seemed reasonable, but reasonable to it and reasonable to her were apparently [i]very[/i] different. The blurring of her vision was also troubling. Grisham had no idea, but Crawford had gotten that little light in his eyes that said his theory was piling up. Nicky had already learned to hate that look. It told her that apparently she was too stupid to share with, despite the fact it was [i]her[/i] all of this was happening to.

She tossed her arm over her face, putting the bridge of her nose into the crook of her elbow and cutting off all light to her eyes. Immediately, her mind flashed to the scene in the police interview room where she had met Crawford the first time. The detective or whatever had said [i]she[/i] had blurred, and her vision had gotten worse. And then the handcuffs were destroyed when she had yanked on them, becoming nothing but twisted lengths of steel. They had had to call someone in to cut them off of her. It looked almost like...[i]Wait, what?[/i]

The teen practically threw herself off of the couch, bolting through the door of the unused office that had been declared her territory, and out into the dim hall. She had been permission to wander around on this floor, but she felt her rebelliousness kick in and snuck around like a thief anyway. She probably looked like a complete dork, but she didn't care. She had to get back to the hospital area, two hallways over and a floor down, which meant the stairwell, since the elevators were apparently 'disabled for security reasons'.

Once there, she swung the door open quietly and slipped inside. It took a few minutes for her to locate the weights she had used earlier. They seemed like the sturdiest and least expensive thing in the place, so she grabbed one. Taking one side in each hand, she held it up and tried to focus on the blurring. Then she tried her damnedest to pull the weight in twain. Her fingers didn't hurt, and the effort, though she was putting everything she had into it, didn't so much as make her sweat. She had no idea how long it was before she heard a giggle from the other side of the room.

Perched on a bench, leaning back with one leg dangling, was another young woman. She wore stylishly worn down jeans and a black baseball tee with some sort of white design on the front, though she was at the wrong angle for Nicky to see it clearly. Her blonde hair was a curtain of curls and waves hanging behind her, and her head was lazily tilted to one side so she could watch Nicky from across the room. Nicky [i]knew[/i] she hadn't been there when she had come in, and had never heard the girl come in, though she would be the first to admit she was not the most observant of people.

She spoke with a sweet, lilting tone, in an accent Nicky didn't know. “So, you're going to waste your [i]whole night[/i] sitting there to try and make it work, when you don't even know what it [i]is[/i]? You're a [i]dork[/i].”

Nicky growled, and threw the weight at the girl. It wouldn't, [i]shouldn't[/i] cross the whole room, but it somehow accelerated in midair and flew into the intruder's hand, snapping to a halt without even jolting the girl's arm even though it had moved at nearly twenty miles an hour. The girl sat up and grinned, her features best described as “fox-like.” Her eyes were narrow, always half closed, and she had a condescending grin, as if she was smiling at a joke only she was in on. She opened her hand, and the weight flew back at Nicky, who tried to catch it out of reflex and was dragged out of her seat and through the rack of weights, which collapsed on top of her. The noise was deafening, and when it stopped, she could hear the girl [i]tittering[/i].

“Oh, you are a [i]treat[/i]! My name is Rose. You must be Nicole. I heard we had a new resident and had to come make introductions.” She strode across the room, long legs flicking out in an odd gait as Nicky extricated herself and spat.

[color=azure]”The fuck [i]are[/i] you?”[/color]

“Language! There are [i]children[/i] in this hospital! But to answer your question, I am a telekinetic. Move stuff around with my mind, you know? Fairly good at it, too.”

Nicky stared for a moment before shaking her head. [color=azure]”So you move shit with your mind? Fucking [i]lucky bitch[/i].”[/color]

Rose took a step back. “Whoa, hey, it's not all sunshine and skittles, kitten!”

[color=azure]”Oh yeah?”[/color] Nicky snarled, [color=azure]“Can you still fucking taste food or feel wind in your hair?”[/color] She took a step forward, fists flexing at her sides. [color=azure]”Did your [i]entire family die[/i] when you got your fancy ass [i]useful[/i] powers? Huh?”[/color]

And then suddenly Nicky was flying through the air. The only indication she had even had Rose was going to do something was a sudden narrowing of the girl's eyes. She was slammed into the wall with enough force to knock over a nearby bookshelf and dent the plaster. Rose stalked forward until she was nose to nose with the girl.

“Listen here, you [i]stupid little girl[/i]. Everyone here tries [i]really fucking hard[/i] to figure out how powers work, where they come from, why some people get stuff like mine and others get stuff like yours. If your life is so shitty, then maybe try and improve it instead of wallowing in fucking [i]self-pitying[/i] piss poor attitude and actually try and help! I don't even know what the hell your problem is, but you have a miraculous ability or you wouldn't be here!”

Nicky tried to open her mouth to scream at the woman, but her jaw wouldn't open.

“No! You shut up for once! I get that you're angry at the world, okay? Life sucks! But [i]no one here[/i] is responsible for whatever happened to you! Stop taking out your anger on everyone else! I've been listening to your stupid bullshit all day! Your family died and you lost your senses, and that sucks and I am sorry. But try cooperating and fixing it instead of just lashing out.”

They stared at one another for several moments. Rose finally sighed, let Nicky go, and walked back across the room. “We have group sessions tomorrow. Maybe it'll help you, maybe it won't. But [i]I[/i] suggest coming. You never know.” 

And with that, the girl stepped through the wall like a ghost, leaving Nicky standing, dumbfounded, to clean up the mess their tussle had made.