A Pilot in Teinar. [Tal/open!]

[Rhi-Rhi]

A nurse had waved him into the room as soon as the medics were done working on the guy, and Cyrus listened as they briefly explained what they'd done. He'd refused to let them call in a healer and magic up the wounds, but they'd had to call one anyway to take care of the internal bleeding otherwise he might have died, and to assess him for any serious head trauma and get that patched up, as well. Anything else that wasn't life threatening, however, they'd simply used traditional medicine on. Bones had been set and properly wrapped and cuts had been cleaned, stitched, and dressed, left to heal on their own.

It might have seemed like an odd request that really only came up among the more superstitious types, but Cyrus had his reasons. This was a fucking Pilot and who knew what he was capable of. Rather than patch him up, good as new, let the bastard take his sweet time healing. He'd be more manageable weak.

"He should be waking up soon, but he'll probably be disoriented from the anesthetic." There was a pause as the doctor stripped off her gloves and tossed them into a trash receptacle, then crossed the room to wash her hands in the sink. "And despite the uproar I'm sure his presence has already caused, I'd like to keep him here at least two more days to monitor his condition. He lost a lot of blood, and while that healer did stimulate blood cell production within him, I'd like to make sure it took and that there are no side effects from the healing or the anesthesia. Besides, I doubt he'll feel up to walking anytime soon."

Cyrus gave a long sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. "Doesn't matter what he feels like. He's going in a cell. You know, so he can't go all psycho-psychic-voodoo on us. Look, you wanna watch him? You can make house calls. He looks just fine to me. Just...asleep, but he'll live. These guys are resilient as roaches," he said, waving dismissively over at the Pilot in the hospital bed. "Who said he'd be walking, anyway? We can just wheel him over there and dump him off. Not like you'll miss one bed."

"While your concern and sensitivity is appreciated as always, Amadori, if he gets an infection--due to not being healed--or has a violent reaction to any of the medications we've given him...a house call may be too late. I'm not a soldier, but I do know it's best to conduct interrogations on people who are sound of mind--and alive--enough to actually communicate back. Just two days, at least, to watch for side effects and monitor his blood count."

"If you're that worried, I'll keep a healer on standby. But I'm taking him to a cell today, so get all your monitoring and doctory...stuff...d one by then. These guys don't need healthy bodies to do stuff. Y'know. Psychics." He laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles while the doctor shook her head in silent disapproval. "Just gotta do what I gotta do to put mine and everyone else's mind at ease. The idea of some Pilot hanging around here unshielded doesn't really do that, y'know? He could be chatting with his slimey little buddies right now for all we know."

The doctor opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment another nurse poked her head into the room. "Doctor Lin, we have an emergency in room 208."

Shaking her head once more in disagreement with Cyrus, the doctor turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Cyrus frowned after her for a moment--silly do-gooder doctors--before he shuffled over to a bedside chair and sank down into it.

Huh. So he'd wake up soon, would he? Cyrus tossed a glare at the figure on the bed, then reached out a tentative finger and poked his arm once, twice. Doctor Lin would probably throttle him if she saw him doing this, but she wasn't here now, was she?

"Hey." Poke, poke. "Wakey wakey. Time to get up, Snow White. You're not fooling anyone, you can't still be unconscious, you bastard."

[Anonymous]

Jason Callahan Jr. skipped through the halls with a bounce in his step as he whistled an old war theme to himself in high spirits. In his hand, this very moment, he held the ticket to his future. The name Cyrus Amadori could be read in neatly printed letters on the envelope Jason held. He clutched the parcel with care as he picked his way through the building, his eyes checking the numbers on the rooms as he walked.

Every now and again he’d encounter one of the medical staff that worked the facility and he’d offer a kindly nod or a cheerful wink, some of which were met with jovial chuckles and warm smiles. One doctor saw fit to stop Jason in his merry progression and the boy jumped to attention and offered a highly exaggerated salute.

“Ma’am, Jason Alexander Callahan Jr. ma’am.” He offered his envelope which looked anything but unofficial. “I’m lookin’ for one Mr. Cyrus Amadori, I’ve been assigned to him. He’s to be my mentor.” The woman smiled almost wickedly as she eyed the envelope and handed it back to the smiling young man. She pointed in the direction she’d just come.

“Down the hall, son, and to your left. He’s right in there and would love the company I’m sure. You just joined the military, didn’t you?” Jason nodded happily. The woman doctor smiled. “Very good, I’ve known Cyrus quite a while you know.” Whether she did or not didn’t matter, it was just sudden scheming. “He’s a cheerful fellow, loves to chat, loves to answer questions so be sure to ask him anything that might be concerning you about the force. Take care of him while you’re in his hands, Mr. Callahan, carry on.” Jason offered another flashy salute and continued on his way down the corridor, whistling all the way.

He reached the door in a matter of moments and entered swiftly with a light knock. He eyed the injured man in the bed as he entered but his gaze eventually settled on the man sitting nearby and it looked like...well it looked like the man was...poking...the other...man...

Despite the puzzlement, Jason pulled himself together and stood at attention near the open door. But no matter how serious he tried to look he still had that stupid grin on his face that betrayed his excitement.
“Jason Alexander Callahan Jr., sir, sent from administration sir, with a message for you.” Jason handed the envelope with the man’s name printed on it over to him and waited for him to accept. He then pulled back to stand at attention and offer a swift salute, all smiles.

“I just finished basic training sir, I’ve been assigned to you. I’m looking forward to working with you and learning under you, sir, I’m sure you have much you can teach me.”

And the notice held pretty much that exact information, that Jason Alexander Callahan was now under Cyrus Amadori’s charge, under his care, and his full-fledged responsibility. Mentor to a new recruit, it said, the honor of teaching Teinar’s future.

[Tally]

It wasn't pain or the jabbing at his arm that woke him.  It was all the noise.

Temple kept trying to fend it off.  Oh gods, he just wanted to sleep.  He was hurt and wanted to rest.  If everyone would just be quiet.  How could they hear each other, talking all at once like that?  About...everything.  Pieces of conversation rose out of the din then receded again.

...a Pilot in the city...how long until lockdown ends?...wonder if anyone's changed that flickering bulb in the stock room...do I feel like soup or pasta for lunch?...

And on and on like that, a barrage of words in his head.  He groaned, or thought he did.  When someone poked his arm a second time, he quit fighting it and let himself wake up, if only so he could ask them all to be quiet.  He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly in white light.  Agh.  So bright.  It made his eyes water.  Above stretched a strange ceiling that told him nothing.  He was blank, reacting to nothing because nothing felt real and nothing was familiar.  Not the room nor its many medical machines, not the smell of the place, not even the two men whose presence he only noticed when he finally turned his head slightly to look around.  Gods but his body felt stiff and useless, as though it had died already and his mind hadn't accepted it yet.  

As he came more awake, he withdrew his reception automatically, without understanding how, and the noise finally stopped.  Of course, because his range was extraordinarily long, his reception stronger than average.  Now he could only hear the two men in the room with him.  Their mouths didn't move much, but he heard everything.  More than he cared about.  He'd ask them to leave so he could sleep, and this time he'd keep his reception close and his blocks up.  Who were they?  Friends?

Many names were in his head all at once, tumbling one over the other, and he grabbed at the first that stuck.  It was an anchor where everything else seemed ephemeral.  The lights overhead, the texture of the fabric at his fingers, the sounds of beeping in his ears...he felt they would all scatter into smoke if he breathed too hard.  But that name was bright in his head, and real.

"Cy...Cyrus," he mumbled, voice thick.  A dry tongue darted out to swipe at a dry bottom lip and his want became a thought, and that thought speared outward to the other two men in the room, piercing their minds and lodging there, ringing like a tuning fork.

WATER.

A command, a request, a simple yearning.  Reflexive.  Temple swallowed then whimpered involuntarily as the action sent pain rippling from his head down to his chest.

[Anonymous]

A young blond haired boy leaned back against his father as the man's long arm reached past him moving a few metal looking blocks with green digital lights moving over them. Kaysen looked up at his Dad his eyes admiring.

"Dad what're ya makin'?" Conrad smiled at his son but his brow furrowed as the blocks moved around on their own pulling themselves together in different spots As if they knew what he wanted to build, but apparently they didn't.

"I was going for a ship of some kind, but these are...complicated." A woman's laughter was heard across the room. Amelia his wife sitting on the couch scrolling across a sort of screen she held in her hand. Reading a book.  He looked up at her giving her a sarcastic angry look.

"Those aren't new dear."  Conrad stood up and Kaysen leaned forward taking over the building job and doing a much better job than Conrad had been.

"Well, I remember when you use to have to move blocks together on your own." A brunette girl was bouncing through the room her headphones covering her ears.

"That's cause you're ancient Dad." He frowned at the girl but a smile cracked in his eyes.

"Watch it Janis." She wandered out of the room and walked over to sit next to Amelia. He put an arm around her and kissed her temple, she smiled but then frowned and pulled back.

"I wish you wouldn't wear your guns around the house Conrad." He frowned and his position as leader showed in his wrinkles and in his eyes. "We've talked about it." He leaned back from her and let a hand slide to the hilt of the gun.

"Some things are necessary Amelia." A chiming sound broke their conversation into pieces and Conrad rose off of the couch to be greeted by a somewhat soft male voice with some sort of accent to it. Very polite and proper.

"Sir, Conrad you have a call." Conrad nodded and headed out of the room after patting his wife on the leg his an apologetic look in his eyes. While hers looked worried.

He walked off quickly to another room shutting the door behind him. It was too a rather large office that had several computers but was also very messy. Conrad still insisted on keeping some of the records he needed on paper. Mostly it just resulted in piles slightly organized mess.

"Thanks Jarvis put me through please."

"Of course Sir." The far wall across from him turned into a projector of sorts as he sat down in the chair behind the desk. A man in a uniform sat on the other side of the screen. He gave Conrad a salute of sorts with his index finger and middle finger held together over his heart. Conrad did the same.

"McBride sir, they are holding the Pilot in the hospital. He's pretty beaten up." Conrad nodded. This was a very unpleasant situation to say the least. He wasn't sure whether to hold onto the hand he was dealt or fold.

"We should get him somewhere his powers are held as soon as possible." He thought for a moment, looking off. "Though he does have to be alive for questioning." He sighed as if this was regrettable. "Have them keep a close eye on him...very close. I'll be by later when they have him shielded." The man nodded knowing it was to hide secrets. Conrad hated to be left out of the ball game sometimes. Though the reason was a very good one.

"Of course Sir." Conrad held a finger up.

"Actually patch me through to the room he's in. I want to talk to the soldier you have in there, and probably the doctor."

[Rhi-Rhi]

The door swung open before Cyrus could snatch his hand away, and he turned his head to the door with his finger still in mid-poke. Some kid was standing there, all cheery grins which instantly gave away that he was fresh meat and holding a letter that he was probably just so excited to deliver because it made him feel useful. Well, alright, so that was projection on Cyrus' part, but he could remember being just like that. Maybe less dorky, he added in his head, in denial.

Then, remembering he was still poking the injured guy, he blinked, cleared his throat, and set his hand on his knee and listened as the kid did his spiel. Eh? Message? He took the envelope as it was offered to him and ripped off the top, unfolding the message within and skimming over it eve as the boy explained it. He finished reading it around the time Jason finished speaking, and after that he could only stare at the words blankly. Then he re-read it, just to make sure there hadn't been some mistake.

"Aw fuck, ya gotta be kiddin' me..." he muttered, but there was no mistake. It was there in plain bold print, signed, and stamped. Mentor. Him?

This had to be some cosmic joke.

When Cyrus was convinced that it was for real, he crumpled the paper up in his hand and tossed it into the trash receptacle--or tried to, because it hit the rim and bounced off and onto the floor. "Throw that away for me, wouldja, son?" Then he paused and raised an eyebrow, his own expression deadpan to balance out the boy's smiles. "In other words, at ease. Don't have to stand around like that, I'm no drill sergeant. Don't call me 'sir', either; makes me sound old. Just Cyrus'll do. Huh...teaching, eh...?"

Well, he was assuming the boy would get his formal military training in basic and all that, and formalities just really weren't his style. If he was going to be his mentor, to him that translated as showing the kid the ropes and dragging him around with him on his own day-to-day duties to give him a nice 'day in the life' taste of what he had to look forward to...when Jason wasn't off at drills, at least. But that was something for the future, and he could think of one immediete use he had for him when it came to this Pilot business.

Still totally serious, he gave Jason a measuring look and drummed his fingers in his knee. "Right-o. So as ya already know, I'm Cyrus Amadori and you basically get to be my slave. So the first order of business is--"

The Pilot mumbled something, and Cyrus' attention snapped onto him. Had he just said his name? Gah! Fucking mind-reader! For a moment he stared down at the Pilot like a snake about to strike, alarmed that he hadn't noticed him wake up, until a thought that was definitely not his own invaded his head.

WATER.

He looked to Jason, but that definitely wasn't his voice and there was no one else in the room. But the Pilot.

Already the guy was worming his way into their heads...

"...So, as I was about to say, I need you to help me wheel this guy out of the hospital and to a containing oh for fuck's sake!"

The phone rang, which just about sent him jumping out of his skin, and Cyrus shot a glare at the Pilot just because he could. "That better not be you messin' with the phone lines with your weirdness," Cyrus growled as he marched over to pick up the phone, and he covered the receiving end with his hand so he could bark at Jason first. "Don't just stand there, get the bugger some water. Hurry it up, chop chop! Yes, hello? Cyrus Amadori speaking." He had uncovered the receiver then so he could speak into it, and his voice made a radical change from gruff and no nonsense to polite in the span of a couple seconds.

[Anonymous]

She walked a bit quickly down the hall, trying to find the correct room, as some fool had given the boy the wrong file. Though doing so got her a few stares as she had fairly tight clothes attached to her voluptuous body.

It wasn’t that she liked that type of wardrobe or was prideful of her figure, it was out of necessity. Wearing baggy clothes would just be a hassle when trying to put her fighting suit on. It wasn’t her fault she had an hourglass figure and slightly above average chest items. In fact she rather loathed it. One too many wolf whistles and the fact that she has to tape them down to fight among the reasons.

Of course above her shoulders was also an appealing sight. Her features were exotic, a fox like face with narrow, focused eyes. Their color a piercing sky blue. A similar, but softer blue was the top part of her medium length hair, changing to black at the nape of her neck.

What little of her skin could be seen showed a slight tan. From the middle of her neck down was all covered in her clothes. A high collared, long sleeved teal shirt began then, the collar being white and a white stripe running from there down her arms and the middle of her torso. From there she wore black long pants with teal stripes going down the sides. Completing her skin cover up where black boots and gloves, reaching to the middle of her calves and forearms.

Finally she reached the room where the newbie went to, though normally she would have knocked first, the idiocy of the mix up had stunted her patience. The door opened and she quickly scanned the room over, deciding the smaller and less worn looking man was her target. “Alexander, you have the wrong man due to some absolutely brilliant individual, yours is down a few more rooms.” She informed in a business like but slightly annoyed manner, handing him the correct file and shooing him off. Once the door had shut again she took a calming sigh and faced the older man.

“Cyrus Amadori correct? I am Kimi Noboru,” She introduced with a slight bow. “I am to be your partner until told otherwise.” Her voice was direct but feminine, and though brief her speech revealed well pointed canines.

[Tally]

Temple lay still and though his eyes wanted to drift closed, he forced them to stay open.  No matter how much the light hurt, no matter how much he craved sleep, he kept them open.  They would adjust to the light, and there was one thing he wanted even more than rest: answers.  Yet he was dazed and still groggy from, he guessed, a combination of the meds and from being unconscious for...how long had he been out anyway?

His reception pulsed in and outward, his control over it erratic.  One moment his head was blessedly quiet and the next he couldn't hear his own thoughts for all the psychic chatter.

The others conversed and moved about the room and Temple watched them passively.  One of them threw a piece of paper toward a wastebasket and Temple's eyes followed it's arc through the air.  He plucked thoughts from their heads at random.  It was more to orient himself than anything.  The one who had thrown the paper, Temple didn't know that one's name and couldn't have read it just then even if he wanted to.  But he did know that one thought Jason Alexander Callahan Jr.—what a yutzy name—was a dork.

Kimi.  Another friend of his?  A stranger?  She didn't spark his memory any more than the other two did.

Pain exists to be overcome, someone had once told him.  He couldn't remember who.  It was right there at the edge of his memory and yet it eluded him.  Frustrated, he gave up trying to pull out a name or face he recognized.  Frustration was good.  Anger too, and embarrassment.  He had learned to use all those things to drive himself.  Fueled by frustration and with the words from his past in his mind, he gritted his teeth and wrestled up into a sitting position, the tubes and sensors stuck all about his body snagging at him.  He gasped at the pain stabbing through his torso and clutched at the rails of the bed as the room spun around him.

He lowered his head and stared at the white sheet covering him.  Limiting his vision there and focusing on the weave of the fabric relieved the dizziness.  He ran his tongue over his lips again.  Still thirsty.  The thought of speaking aloud made him cringe, and he didn't think himself capable of coherent telepathy.  Fine then.  He'd get water himself.

There was a simple faucet and sink in the room and a stack of paper cups beside it.  Temple sighed.  Telekineses had never been a strength of his.  At least, not refined telekineses.  He tended to wield it like a club.  But he was so thirsty.  The other two were busy with each other, so Temple stared intently at the cold water knob of the faucet and extended a thread of telekineses to it.  Nothing happened at first, but he could feel the knob.  He fumbled at it mentally, a sweat breaking out on his forehead.  It shifted, barely perceptible.  He kept at it, moving it in tiny increments.  Finally, he latched a firm hold onto it and gave it a good twist.  Water came pouring out and Temple sagged, exhausted by the effort but pleased he'd won out over the faucet.  He was breathing hard by the time it was over.

If neither of them got the hint, he'd float a cup of water over his own damn self.

[Anonymous]

Conrad smiled to himself hearing the change in Cyrus's voice. He was a pushy guy, Conrad liked having that around it would be perfect for what he needed him to do.

"Yes, Cyrus it's me Conrad." He had a sideways grin on his face. "And we certainly do have a situation don't we?" His voice had a somewhat amused tone to it. He always tried to keep good spirits in Teinar. They were certainly the lesser when compared to Aedolis in some ways. People however will always surprise you when they share a free way of life. He was listening to Cyrus's voice, it sounded frustrated and there was just barely a hint of him being a little spooked by the Pilot.

"I told Harrison that I wanted them to make sure the Pilot was going to survive. We don't need to give him the five star treatment. I do want him comfortable however. No profuse bleeding please. Then I want him in a shielded room for questioning. I also want it to happen as quick as possible." He paused leaving the phone open for Cyrus to respond while Conrad pushed thoughts around in his head like a chess board. A big piece being the letter from Prophet, the Gospel.

It wasn't Conrad's style to just kill a person right off, there's always a chance for salvation. His brow furrowed. Though it may be wiser in this situation. Comparing one life to all of Teinar was no contest. Even if it was his own he would have given it. It haunted him like a neon light in his mind.

He realized he hadn't answered Cyrus and blinked.

"I just want you to make sure the process is speedy. I'll probably also want you there for the questioning. I think you'll be perfect for it." He needed his temper and frustration this time.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Cyrus was left blinking as a shapely woman entered the room and directed the Jason kid out. Eh? A mix-up? His brow knotted in confusion while his mouth twisted in mild irritation and he huffed into the receiver without really meaning to. Ugh. He gave her a quick once-over, lingering just a little longer on her chest than the rest of her, and then covered the receiver up with his hand again so he could speak.

"Yeah, yeah, great, just hold a sec," he hissed at her, pointing at the phone. So the guy had been switched out for a girl. Bloody great.

Cyrus liked women. He liked them a lot. But having one as a partner? The thought made him want to groan. Sure he'd met lots of female fighters that could whoop his ass blind-folded without breaking a sweat, but he'd also met a lot of whiners, too, and the PMS...oh gods, the PMS. The bitching, the moaning, the spontaneous sobbing, the big boobs--wait. Cyrus frowned and quickly drew his eyes away, turning again to face the Pilot. Hmph. He'd be surprised if she could fight with hooters like those.

Listening to Conrad speak, he chuckled. "A situation? That's puttin' it lightly," he said, looking at the Pilot and jumping a bit when the guy decided to try and sit up--and succeeded. Erk. His body tensed as he focused on watching him, making sure he didn't try anything funny. Right, wasn't like the guy could go anywhere. Cyrus had made sure he'd be kept weak and he was sweating just from doing that much. Still kind of impressive. Those damned Pilots sure were tenacious...hell, maybe they'd healed him too much after all. Might've been good to let him keep some of the brain damage, except then they'd get no information.

Blah.

"Right right, no profuse bleeding. Can't make any guarantees if he tries to do something weird, but I'll make sure there's no permanent, life-threatening damage or anything. So, ya want me to do the questioning? Fine by me," he said, shrugging. "Ya gonna be there, too? Because I can have 'im all set up within the hour but if ya wanna come--and I think ya should--just gimme a time."

He paused and looked at the Pilot again, who was staring off into space apparently (how creepy), then followed the guy's gaze so he could see what it was he found so damned interesting. The faucet? Oh right. Water. Tch. Well he could just wait a bit longer. Wouldn't kill him. "What're we gonna do with him after this? We can't possibly keep him here; it's too dangerous. What if Pilots have like some sorta psychic GPS thing on--SHIT! HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK!" he suddenly blurted, heart just about punching itself out of his chest.

Water came pouring out of the faucet and Cyrus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, body going rigid and pale, as he stared at it in wide-eyed horror. That hadn't been him or the chick, and he could hear the Pilot panting over the sound of his own pulse beating in his ears. Oh shit. Oh shit. He could still do shit. If he could twist a knob, what was to say he couldn't twist someone's neck?

"Oh fuck...gah! Sorry Conrad! Uh...uhm...everythi ng's under control here. Just, haha, the Pilot can still do stuff. It's like a fuckin'--er, pardon, freakin'--haunted house over here. Ah, I better go now. Get the stuff set up. Get the guy moved. Shit like--er, stuff like that." Cyrus moved to the sink, praising cordless phones, and grabbed a paper cup. He stuck it under the water and filled it, then turned off the faucet and glared at the Pilot. For a second he considered downing the water himself, just to be a bastard, but since the guy would probably do more theatrical shit if he did that Cyrus decided to be nice.

He held the cup out to the Pilot at arm's length and, when he didn't take it quickly enough for him, let the cup drop in his lap.

Like hell he was holding that damned cup all day.

"Anything else I need to know, Conrad? Ya gonna be there?" he asked and looked toward the new girl. Kimi, was it? Well, good. At least he'd have help for this.

[Anonymous]

Kimi stared back with seemingly no emotion at all as she was stared at, also examining her new partner. A slight glare came to her features when she noticed his eyes linger on her chest. She was used to that sort of reaction, but damn if it wasn’t annoying. At least he seemed and experienced soldier from the muscle and the scars. Perhaps he wouldn’t be so bad to work with.

Once Cryus’ attention went back to the call she decided to keep an eye on the pilot, but continued to keep an ear on the conversation. However she started to tune it out slightly when she noticed the pilot seemed very focused on something. Quickly following his eyes to the faucet. She was about to move, assuming he needed some water, but stopped and gave a slightly surprised blink when the knob turned itself.

So they really do posses telekinetic powers…She was the type who had to confirm things for herself, the cool calculating kind. Any of her spare time was usually spent studying and experimenting. She considered physical training as part of her work.

However calm her initial reaction was, Cyrus sudden obscenities made her jump slightly. Yes, definitely an experienced soldier, though perhaps a little paranoid. Kimi assumed she would get the water, since he seemed preoccupied, but watched with some slight amusement as he did it himself.

Kimi shook her head and walked over to the pilots bedside, taking the cup and holding it for him. She knew they would both find her a bit strange for the gesture, but having some experience in the medical field compelled her to be gentle with him, even though he was an enemy.

Of course, that wasn’t stopping her from calculating any sort of plans he might have. From killing both of them now and sneaking off, to biding his time and waiting for a different opportunity. She didn’t know the extent of his power, so some of the possibilities she was preparing countermeasures for were quite dramatic.

[Tally]

The words Cyrus was speaking into the phone started to register with Temple.  His attention narrowed to those words, to the man speaking them.  His focus grew a little clearer.

A questioning.  No life-threatening damage.  Set up within the hour.  It didn't take a lot of inference to know what they were talking about, but Temple couldn't muster the energy to be concerned just yet.  He gave Cyrus a fresh look.  He had the body of a man who was not only active, but actively fit and trained.  What had Callahan said earlier?  Something about basic training.  That made them military.  Suddenly Temple felt on familiar ground.  He knew how to deal with military.

Finally, water.  About time.  Took them long enough.  Temple started to reach out for the cup, but down it went into his lap before he could barely raise his hand, splashing cold water all over the sheets.

"Ass," he muttered, shooting a glare at the man before attempting to fumble with the cup, but the woman retrieved it for him.  Given what he'd just overheard, he was suspicious of the gesture, but after a moment he reached out with an unsteady hand to take the cup from her.  The first experimental sip burned going down; too cold.  But he kept at it, not gulping no matter how thirsty he was, just taking small sips, relishing the feeling of satisfaction.  If this whole ordeal was spiraling down to the point he suspected, this would be among the last luxuries he'd be allowed to enjoy.

He listened while he drank.  But he didn't listen with his ears.

The woman was thinking of him.  Calculating.  Alert in case he tried to kill them.  Which inspired the question: why would he want to kill these people?  Where was he?  Teinar, he gleaned from the woman's mind, but he was too exhausted to read more information than the name.

Countermeasures.  She was thinking of countermeasures against him.  Never mind that he could barely move, did she not realize he would know her countermeasures as soon as she herself thought them?  Clearly they were not psychics, nor did they have any psychics among them who could do any good against him, else he suspected they would be in that room.  Did they even comprehend just how open their minds were to him?

Sitting up made him feel marginally less helpless in front of these two, but the room was starting to spin.  He'd proven his point by sitting up, time to lay back down now.  Very carefully, with exaggerated concentration to make sure he didn't drop it, he placed the cup of water on a tray next to the bed and eased himself back down.  He kept an ear open on the other two but laid a hand over his eyes in hopes of relieving the vertigo.

Kimi had been right about one thing.  She had been right to keep her guard up.  He was biding his time, gathering information, filing it all away until he needed it.  Wherever he was, however he'd gotten here, he intended to take control of the situation one way or another.

[Anonymous]

Cyrus was so foul mouthed, but Conrad really never cared even though Cyrus would constantly correct himself. Sometimes cursing was appropriate. From his point of view it really was for the stitch they found themselves in. A worst nightmare come true. He just hoped it could be taken care of before things went too far. If death was the only option that's what it might take.

"I'll give you some time to set up first but I'll come to you for the questioning. Give me a call when he's ready." Conrad paused for a moment considering his next words. "Cyrus I also give you permission to do whatever is necessary to keep the situation is under control. Don't keep your hand on the trigger though. give...him a chance. he may be happy to be out of Aedolis." He paused again and waited listening to the crazy curses and noises in the room. His eyes grew wide then Cyrus returned to the phone.

So the psychic could still use his powers even in this weakened state. Conrad frowned.

"Cyrus, we need to find a psychic to help control his powers. I'm sure we have one somewhere in Teinar that has at least some control over it." Conrad had his elbows on the desk and his hands rubbing his temples Teinar was never boring but there were sometimes he wished it was. This excitement needed to be cut short, especially judging by the amount of cursing going on over the other end of the phone.

"Try and keep your pants on Cyrus, we'll question him together...then, we'll have a council meeting. Give me a call when it's ready." He hung up the phone and pushed his chair back from the desk taking a few long breaths and letting them out. He tried to steady himself and not imagine the worst case scenario and let it take over his mind. It always ran off with those ideas way too easily for his liking.

[Rhi-Rhi]

The guy might be wounded, but he still had energy enough to have attitude. Go figure.

Of course, that had been assy on his part, but he didn't care. The Pilot may not have done anything to him personally save breathe, be a Pilot, and crash land in and bleed all over his country, thus jeopardizing national security, but--alright, so it was personal.

"Dumbass," Cyrus shot back, meeting the Pilot's glare with one of his own, before he remembered he was still on the line with Conrad. He gave a start, grimacing. "Shit, not you, sir! Er, the Pilot. Talkin' to the Pilot. Sorry. Anyway..." As though it were the Pilot's fault, he shot the guy another glare before retreating a few paces back from the hospital bed, where he could observe the man without being too close--you know, in case he tried to fling water psychically at him or something. Yeah.

But it also allowed him to watch both Kimi and the Pilot, and Cyrus frowned as the woman went over and started to help the guy out, all motherly-like. He rolled his eyes at her and focused in on Conrad, starting to pace just to have something to do. Oi, that was another thing about women. Natural nurturers. Not all of 'em, of course, but c'mon, he was a Pilot and he was probably plotting nasty things already. You didn't baby someone like that. He sat up and he made the bloody faucet turn on with his mind, so he was perfectly capable of picking up his own damned cup.

"No worries, I'm not gonna shoot him now," Cyrus said, making no attempt at hushing his voice. Let the guy hear. He could count it as a warning to stop with the funny business. "I wanted to do that, I coulda done it when I found him. I almost did, matter of fact, but there were kids and I figured we could use him." He shrugged, even though Conrad couldn't see, and shot the Pilot a meaningful look.

Then Conrad was talking about rustling up a local psychic to help. Ick. Cyrus could name a couple off the top of his head and it wasn't that they were bad people or anything, but...psychics. They were just one country away from being Pilots, and they could still read your mind. Aramae, at least, had finally stopped finishing his sentences for him after he'd yelled at her enough times, which was still a step up from when she used to have their entire conversation for them. That always pissed him off.

"Yeah, yeah...I'll find someone. I've got it under control. Talk to ya later."

Hanging up on his end, he crossed his arms over his chest and tapped the phone against his arm absently as he gave both Kimi and the Pilot appraising looks. Alright, then. Conrad wanted them to do this ASAP, which was fine by him. Time to put this new partner of his to work.

And hope she didn't flake out like the Callahan kid.

"Kimi--it is Kimi, right? Right. So we gotta get this guy outta here and into a holding cell. Somewhere where he's not gonna be a hazard to other patients and people and whatnot." And where any interrogations wouldn't disturb anyone. "I want you to help me out now, get him strapped down in that bed. I don't want him falling out or throwing himself off it or anything stupid like that when we wheel him out." Looking over the Pilot now, though, it looked like it would be too much of an effort for him to throw himself off it--which would be dumb anyway, but hey, people were inherently moronic.

"Well? Get to it. Buckle him up. I'm gonna make a few phone calls here real quick, don't mind me." Ah, one of the great things about partners: make them do the dirty work. She liked being all touchy-feelie with Mister Pilot? She could knock herself out. Turning the phone on, he dialed and waited as it started to ring, but instead of pacing the floor while he waited, he looked to the Pilot.

"Hey. You. What's your name?"

It got tiring thinking of him as "Pilot" and "Guy" and "Dude With the Psycho-Psychic-Voodoo".

[Anonymous]

She gave a very faint smile when the men exchanged their curses, and had to hold back a chuckle as Cyrus had to clarify who he meant.

Kimi wasn’t paying much attention to the phone conversation after that though, mostly giving the pilot that blank stare with a hint of a frown. Her usual expression most would say. She blinked though and looked a bit surprised for a second as Pilot took information from her. For just a second…maybe not even that much, she felt a slight pain had started in her head. Like the start of a minor headache. But it immediately disappeared.

Kimi frowned slightly in confusion. Had he just read her mind? But…usually one would not feel a thing while that happened…I will have to make a note of this…

It was not the first time Kimi found herself an anomaly like this.

She tensed as the pilot rose, prepared to strike, but immediately relaxed as he fell back. Good, so far he was still weak. Even if the pilot recovers faster then normal humans, we’ll still have some time.

Her attention was drawn to her new partner again when he hung up the phone, awaiting orders, since she had not been privy to what was said on the other end of the phone. Holding cell. He intends to interrogate then. Cyrus didn’t need to be subtle, they were both soldiers after all, it wasn’t hard to guess what he really meant. The pilot, while injured, was still an enemy, and their prisoner for the time being.

Kimi was up and strapping the pilot down before Cyrus even had time to rush her to it. She was cooperative as long as she understood the reason behind the order and agreed with it. But if Cyrus believed he had acquired some free labor…well, he’d be corrected soon enough.

She took a moment to make sure the straps were good and tight. No reason for him to be comfortable after all. When finished Kimi stood at attention, arms folded behind her back calmly as she kept watch over the pilot, waiting for Cyrus to finish his business so they could get going.

[Tally]

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Temple he was in a very bad situation.  That was aside from the injuries and the amnesia, which would have been bad enough on their own.

The ass—Cyrus—had most of his attention.  He was very interested in what the man was saying to...whoever was on the other side of that phone.  A quick dip into the forefront of Cyrus's mind gave him the name.  Conrad.  Another name he didn't recognize, and yet whoever he was, he was in a superior position to Cyrus, who kept calling him 'sir' and making attempts at a respectful demeanor when speaking into the phone.

Cyrus didn't lower his voice, and Temple didn't hide his reaction.  Shoot him, indeed.  Narrow violet eyes met Cyrus's own, unflinching, and he didn't turn away until he felt the straps on his arms.  His attention snapped to the restraints as Kimi strapped him in, his first instinct to struggle, to lash out with one hand, grab her by the hair, and smash her forehead against the bed railing then deal with Cyrus.  Discipline held him in check.  His body was not capable of the kind of fight it wanted to put up just then.  Other than a slight tensing and a frown, he allowed her to bind him without a fuss.

In the midst of all this, he had no qualms about picking through their minds at his leisure.  They couldn't do anything about it and his thoughts were the only part of him with free rein.  How suspicious they were of him.  One of Cyrus's trains of though in particular caught his interest.  Something about other psychics, and calling one in to help them.

Temple laughed out loud.  It must have looked strange, but he couldn't help himself.  A psychic.  To work against him.  He didn't know who he was, but he somehow knew that was a laughable idea.  He wished they would bring whatever backwater, remedial, hick psychics they had to meet him.  It'd be fun to run mental circles around them.

"My name?  I'm..."  His name didn't leap to mind the way one's name ought to.  He went searching for it and many names came spiraling down to him.  Gabriel, Roman, Dyerlich.  Alaric, Cross.  Just to make things extra fun, names drifted over to him from the minds of the other two in the room.  Cyrus.  Kimi.  Conrad.

There was one other name, very important, very prominent, and yet he turned away from it the way one would turn away from a blinding white light.  It was beautiful, but it hurt to look at.  Providence.

None of the names coming to him felt like his own.  "I'm...I don't know.  I don't remember."  He was more irritated than concerned.  He could remember some things, but that made it all the more infuriating when the details refused to come to him.  He knew that he was a Pilot—mostly because Cyrus kept harping on it—but he couldn't grasp exactly what that meant.  He understood that he was psychic in the same way he understood that he was human and male.  He knew there were people in his life but conjuring the faces and names of individuals was not working.  He knew of Aedolis in general but very few specifics about it, and where he fit into that vague picture continued to elude him.

He frowned at the ceiling.  If he could just remember his name and go from there.  His eyes slipped over to Cyrus.  "You don't know who I am?  You can't tell me anything?"

[Rhi-Rhi]

Cyrus watched Kimi work, quickly, silently and without complaint, and decided that he had to adjust his opinion of her a little. When she finished and stood at attention, he gave her an approving nod, then jumped and stared at the Pilot when he suddenly laughed.

Looking the Pilot over right now, he almost wanted to laugh himself, the guy strapped down to a hospital bed that they'd probably gotten from the psych ward, laughing over nothing when he was certainly in no position to laugh. It was kind of amusing. He and most sane people thought Pilots were insane, and right now this made the guy look extra crazy.

The amusement died when he asked his question and the Pilot started struggling for words. Oh great. Don't tell him. He had the distinct feeling he knew what was coming, and it already irritated him.

When the answer finally came, Cyrus stared at him as though he were speaking a foreign and very guttural language, both eyebrows climbing. Yep. There it was.

"Like hell ya don't know." He wasn't buying this. Sure the guy had head trauma and all that, but the doctors had fixed that. Or...he thought they did, was pretty sure they did. The doc had said the worst of the head trauma had been dealt with, something about being disoriented from anesthesia and blood loss and blah blah blah, but the Pilot was obviously feeling good enough to turn a faucet on with his mind. Bah, he was no medic, but yeah right this guy couldn't remember. Every prisoner spontaneously contracted a convenient case of amnesia once the questions started rolling in, and this man was a Pilot. You know, super mastery over the mind. No way a Pilot could forget crap.

"Look, it'd be easier for everyone if ya just told the truth. Save us all a lot of trouble. Save yourself a lot of strife." Well, possibly. It might not matter in the end, depending on what the council--and ultimately Conrad--decided to do with him, whether they kept him around or disposed of him. Cyrus felt they should just squeeze what useful stuff they could out of him and then get rid of him, because Gods would it be bad keeping a Pilot on down here. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking they had the resources to deal with a full-blown Pilot, and it was too risky all around.

He could give away the entire location of Teinar and then they'd all be screwed. Bad enough having all those lizards crawling around on the surface right now. How far could a Pilot's telepathy reach? The last thing they needed was for him to reach out to some dragon up there.

Cyrus shuddered at the thought, then finally hung up the phone when no one answered. He tried again with a different number, held the phone to his ear, and looked at Kimi. "Wanna start wheeling him off? I might be a couple more minutes, so if ya want you can go ahead and get a head start." Better get him contained before his brain powers got stronger.

"Try and get his name for starters, will ya? And you, psychic dude? If ya don't at least give us your name, I'm gonna start callin' ya Bob. Got it?"

[Anonymous]

A skeptical frown crossed Kimis features when the pilot gave a laugh. He found the idea of their psychics probing his head amusing? He must be pretty damn confident then, or he actually had the power to back that chuckle. Either way, this situation was just plain horrible in Kimis opinion.

If they were to let him free, though doubtful, they risk their location and anything the Pilot might have figured out just from this conversation. So logically, they should kill him. But even then, they risk location because the dragon died, and they already sent in a search party, so they probably wonder why they didn’t find a body. While it’s unlikely they would send another search team to this area, if he’s particularly powerful, there’s still a chance.

So Cyrus assumes he’s putting up an act. That could be, but there is no denying the pilot suffered sufficient head trauma to have a few screws loose. But how many and when he finds them is another story.

For now at least, they should avoid giving him too much information to work with.

Kimi nodded when addressed, “Ask the warden for me if you take longer then anticipated.” It’s not like I can wheel in a Pilot without notifying him anyway.

She left the room with him then, walking briskly though the hall. The sooner the better, the she made sure to keep her guard up in case the pilot decided to pull something on the way.

The soldier held back a sigh. Having a partner wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. She would much rather be stuck outside on the surface for a week then have to baby-sit. This would surely cut into her time at the lab as well. Honestly, what she worked on was very important, couldn’t they have set her with an assistant instead?

Especially when her new partner is apparently dense and possibly sexist according the brief description given to her.

Kimi glanced down at the pilot for a moment with those piercing blue eyes of hers, calculating again. She supposed there was no harm in asking at first and seeing how hostile he was. Or even get a better hint of whether he has amnesia or not “So, you really don’t remember your name?” She looked more questioning at the moment in contrast with Cyrus’ suspicious behavior.

[Tally]

Bound and laid up, there was little for the Pilot to do but lie back and allow himself to be wheeled out of the room.  He might have caused a ruckus with some well aimed telekinesis—could have knocked Cyrus on his ass for a laugh—but now was hardly the time to get them angry and he needed his strength.

Fluorescent ceiling lights passed intermittently above him and he closed his eyes against the visual stimulation.  He went about systematically testing every restraint for any weakness or loose strap and when he'd gone through them all he tested each one a second time.

Next, he set his mind loose upon his surroundings, expecting to be hindered but finding his thought waves unobstructed.  These people really had not been prepared to deal with him and didn't seem to have any idea how to contain a psychic.  It was pitiful.  He shouldn't even have been awake.  If they'd have been thinking at all, they would have kept him sedated until they had him in a more isolated and secure location.  These corridors through which Kimi wheeled him were not designed to restrict thoughts.  They hadn't even bothered to clear the area, for in his questing the Pilot encountered many minds, all of them wide open and easy reads.  He harvested from them whatever information he liked, and before long had a complete mental picture of this entire facility as well as the locations of the exits and every security code he would need to get him out.  Eventually, somehow, one of them would make a mistake.  And he would be ready to take advantage.

Kimi spoke, and the Pilot opened his eyes to look up at her.  He caught her surface thoughts in the same way that one overhears a conversation happening in the next room.  It would have been a simple thing to block them, but he liked the chatter.  

"No, I really don't," he said, and then decided to answer her thoughts as well.  "And I will only be as hostile as you are."  If treated civilly, he would give civility in turn.  If given hostility, so too would he give that back to them, and they would find out just how much damage he could cause with only his mind.  At its full force his telekinesis could have slammed Kimi against the wall hard enough to crack her skull open.

"Was there no identification on me at all?  Someone must know something about me."  His name if nothing else.  He would settle for that.

The Pilot couldn't quite resist reaching back to find Cyrus's mind.  He hung there for a few moments, following along with Cyrus's train of thought, and in spite of everything he'd told himself about not antagonizing these people, he telepathed to him.  "Coming Cyrus?  Kimi and I are almost there."

[Rhi-Rhi]

Finally, after a series of phone calls, he got a hold of one of his buddies that knew someone else that knew some chick that knew a psychic, who he phoned and badgered into coming over. Some girl named Ayn, owned a store. Eh, it would work. Since Aramae wasn't available, and she was the only psychic Cyrus personally knew--creeped him out, too, but at least she wasn't a Pilot and she didn't do any crazy mind theatrics--this Ayn would just have to do. There weren't many psychic-types in Teinar, not that he knew of, so beggars couldn't be choosers.

Cyrus had no sooner hung up the phone when the Pilot's voice boomed in his mind, and he jumped and spun around to find himself in an empty room. Which...only made sense, because Kimi had already wheeled him out. A while ago. Cyrus released the breath that had lodged in his throat and rubbed the back of his neck where the hair had prickled, then drew in another deep breath. Holy fuck, either the guy was really doing that mind-speak thing or he was going out of his mind.

"Fuckin' psychics," he muttered as he headed out the door and down the halls. He'd dealt with a lot of crazy shit in his lifetime, mutated creatures and criminals and all, but it was nothing a clean shot couldn't fix. This, though, this was completely beyond his range of experience--hell, it was beyond the range of any Teinari.

A Pilot. A fucking actual Pilot.

The more he thought about what he'd done, bringing the Pilot here, the more he thought he should have just shot him when he'd first had that inclination. But instead he'd brought him here to get nursed back to health because he was a Pilot and they might be able to glean something useful from him.

It had sounded like a good idea at the time, when the guy was unconscious and on death's door, but ah hell, they could still shoot him later.

Now wasn't the time to agonize over whether or not he'd done the right thing.

He finally caught up with Kimi and the Pilot as they approached the prison. It actually wasn't too far from the hospital, just a quick journey (well, if you ran like he did) down a few halls, out a door, and through a series of tunnels to reach the place. It was near the hospital so medics could easily access it, but sealed off from everything else for the obvious safety reasons. The other prisoners might not be very safe with a Pilot sharing their space, but prisoners were prisoners and they were there for a reason, Cyrus rationalized.

"What're you waiting for? Get 'im inside. They already expect him," Cyrus barked at Kimi as he strolled past her and up to the entrance to speak to the warden, who opened the place up for them and then went to secure a cell for the Pilot. Cyrus walked in ahead of them--Kimi had wheeled him here so she could wheel him the rest of the way, since she got along with him so well--and waited by the opened cell for them.

"You get his name yet?" he called back to her as an afterthought, rocking back and forth on his feet impatiently. Damn woman just wasn't moving fast enough.

[Anonymous]

She gave a soft laugh, nodding a little at the pilots reply, “Fair enough.” Kimi paused at his question though, still trying to be careful not to give him too much to work with. “No. At far as I know, you didn’t even have an I.D. tag, and anyone from here lucky enough to know a Pilots name, was probably unlucky enough to be dead soon after.”

Kimi rose a brow smoothly as Cyrus whizzed past her, curious as to his hurry. She frowned slightly as she continued in her same pace despite him. Not that she wasn’t used to orders being barked in her face, but that one certainly wasn’t necessary.

She glanced down at their prisoner briefly before answering Cyrus, even though as she did she also thought it might have been better to stay quiet. Brilliant as she is, even Kimi’s brain can’t think fast enough to outrun an indignant and slightly condescending remark. “If I wheel him too fast I risk bumping into something, possibly causing more injury and maybe even the loss of your interrogation subject. He is going no where, there is no rush.”

Of course she was exaggerating a little, but hey, it happens.

Luckily this was mostly drowned out by the sudden wolf whistles Kimi was getting. She immediately tensed and growled softly, gripping the stretcher a bit tighter then she should. Of course the fact that she had put a few of these guys in here herself didn’t help.

It’s fine. Just relax. Ignore them. Do your job.

”Hey hey, foxy officer chick, doing well since you busted me huh?”

God-damnit!

Kimi grit her teeth as she started to pass by Niko’s cell. Little sleaze ball had tried to steal some of her own tech equipment, probably to pawn them off since he didn’t exactly seem like one with a plan. Of course he could have been working for someone to get some important information off her computers too. But if he really had friends like that Kimi would have gotten a follow up visit.

“You’re just lucky I had enough self control to do that instead of kill you,” Kimi sneered, keeping her eyes forward. Ugh, she just hated even looking at him. How dare he defile the sanctity of her lab!

“Don’t be like that, if I had know how sexy you were under the coat I would have gone for you first…” He grinned, sneaking a hand though to grope her rear.

It took only a second. A blink and you might have missed it. Kimis fist shot right through the bars and into Nikos face with just enough force not to kill him. He fell unconscious with a nice thud though, and a broken, bloodied nose.

“Everyone just shut the fuck up” She shouted at the other inmates, eyes fierce against the light blush on her cheeks.

They did shut up rather quickly, but some chuckling at Nikos fate started to rise as she wheeled the pilot into the room.

“Damn sex deprived convicts,” she muttered irritably, leaving the stretcher in the middle for Cyrus. She didn’t feel like bothering with the pilot at this moment. “Oh and no, he still sticks to his amnesia story. Which is possible considering his injuries,” Kimi replied to his earlier question, a bit more calm now.