A Second Lease on Life Ch 3
Dec 30
Well, I spent the last 2.5 hours in Sickbay with a completely
different Dr. McCoy, even though it sure looked like something
out of Star Trek. I think he didn't mind being called "Bones",
either...
He determined that somehow, me, Lady Anastasia wound up in the
body of his erstwhile teammate, Rogue. He explained to me
about her power absorption ability that had run uncontrolled
most of her life, and how it had apparently "copied" me into
her body.... and a number of other abilities I'd inherited.
He began with suggesting a workout routine to get me used to
my radically different physical capabilities super strength,
invulnerability, and when he told me I could fly I have to
admit, I was elated...I'd always wondered what it'd be like
to be able to soar through the violent beauty of a thunderstorm.
Then he took me into another room, where there was a comfort-
able chair and a "helmet', which he explained was a highly
advanced MRI type scanner, with banks of computers surround-
ing the perimeter of the room.
I took a seat, and let him adjust the helmet over my head before
he began a series of neurological 'scanalysis'. He'd told me
that this was to help determine the nature of the powers I brought
with me... which we later determined to be racially psionic in
nature.. and far stronger than I'd
ever imagined!
No wonder I'd had migraines for years...and he promised further
analysis to see if there was still a chance of them recurring..
or if further training could aleviate that!
But the nagging question that remained was "What happened to Rogue?"
It was something I couldn't answer, and probably wouldn't be able
to for a long time.
But he spent some time talking to me, and reassuring me, that
he would do what he could to help me adapt.
That made me feel better. I had one person I could call a friend
in this house of mystery, and he promised to properly introduce
me to the others a few at a time to make things a little easier.
We then went up stairs, and he proceeded to make good on his promise,
and I made up my mind to record my first impressions of everyone here,
in my journal.
I've already decided that Scott is an uptight whiner, and far
to serious for his own good. If he can't be in control, he's a
real jerk. I don't care much for him... And Jean, though likable,
is too nice. There's something dark inside her that she won't
deal with, and she over compensates by being too nice, and a real
nosy busybody type.... Gambit: real slick, lady's man; but I don't
quite trust him. Guy's gorgeous, but he smokes and that's a definite
turnoff.
Who else did I meet to day that merits mention here?
"Bones" is really cool, kinda odd looking, but fun to be around.
The other blue guy, Kurt is interesting, reminds me of SCA guys
I've known, and Joseph is.... not only beautiful, there's something
very strange going on with him. He's so sad. Maybe I can pry him
out of his shell a bit? My gut says he needs someone to talk to....
and something tells me there's more than white hair and blue
eyes in common between him and Ororo.
There are others I met briefly, but didn't get the names of, but
I'll meet them in the morning, Bones told me.
Now it's time to go see my room.
Jean promised me a room with it's own bathroom, and it looks like
she knew where to stick me: corner room, with lots of windows,
but the namecard in the doorslot says "Rogue" in fancy calligraphy
... Oh well.
I found my computer placed on a desk that is still dusty, like it
just came out of storage, and my black seabag propped up next to
the closet, with several packs of those plastic tubular hangers,
and then I turn my attention to the rest of the room.... There's
WAAAYY too much gingham, lace and eyelet around here for my tastes
... and it reeked of Chantilly, a perfume I happen to abhor.
I decided the room was getting aired and changed out before I
took up residence... It didn't take very long to strip the bed
of it's frou-frous and to remove the previous occupant's touches.
And thankful for the French doors and a balcony, I tied the whole
mess up in the bedspread and ran it off to the dumpster...
[Good riddance....] I thought to myself, though I had packed
the horrible knick-knacks into a box to go into storage, the
bed linens and curtains were hopeless....
It took almost half a smudge stick of sage and lavender before
that room felt "right" to me. I didn't mind the Victorian
furniture, but it took me a while to track down some civilized
linens in storage... but being a night owl, I was managing fine.
And though I had tried stretching and climbing to hang some
gorgeous dark blue velvet curtains I'd found... I had looked
down to find that I'd actually levitated in my efforts to
reach the curtain rods!
And wouldn't you know, just like a cat, I'm great at ascending
to heights, but horrible at coming back down... So I settled
for "lassoing" one of the posts on the four-poster bed with
drapery cord, and "pulled" myself over it, and then relaxed
and just "dropped" with a sigh of relief... Of course the
bedsprings squeaked horribly.... and it was then that I heard
a gentle tap on "my" door.
I was scrambling off the bed, with a bit more squeaking, when
a pretty brown haired-brown eyed girl came walking through
my door--without opening it. I got the sense she was pretty
smart, too from the way she eyed my jury-rigged PC-clone in
such a knowing way.... and when she offered to help me settle
in, starting with my computer. She had an Ethernet card in
hand and a toolkit in the other. And with her personality, I
didn't have to do much talking.
From her I learned a great deal of relevant gossip about the
Xavier Institute and other tidbits, meanwhile, I set to digging
through the dresser of my 'predecessor' to find room for my
own clothes...
Needless to say, I was rather astonished at some of he...
provocative... lingerie I discovered there, and quickly tossed
it in a laundry basket. Almost nothing there was suited to my
taste, which runs to basic black, very simple, and no lace. So
that was all "out" real quick, I'd have to settle for a tight
brassiere for a few more days, but now I knew why: 34B was
never meant to accomodate 36D!
There were some useful things though: lots of comfy looking
workout gear, some sheer black body stockings and some gorgeous
opera gloves--heck there were gloves of all kinds, some of
which went into the basket with the Frederick's leftovers...
but if it was black, or a dark jewel colour, I kept it!
But I'd have to say the worst shock was in the closet...
I burst out laughing, almost hysterically after a few minutes.
In all my life, I couldn't believe some of what I was seeing,
(and as a costumer I've seen a lot...)
Tattered cutoffs, gingham croptops, more Frederick's sleaze-
ware (tm), and typical me, I didn't hide my disdain, "Crikey,
what is this? Daisy Duke's a bleeding mutant??? I don't beeleeve
this! Kate, can you help me with this crap? I'll be damned if
I'll be caught dead in Daisy Duke slut-wear..."
I then notised that she was holding her sides, trying not to
hurt herself laughing at the look of sheer disgust on my face
as I began practically teAnang stuff out of the closet...
There was a mountain of things that were going to the "give
away" pile, and fewer things going into the "possibly salvage-
able" pile, and another pile that I'd labeled "hopeless"...
Strangely enough, it took less than all night to clean out the
closet and get the entire room set up more to my liking.
Dec 30
Well, I spent the last 2.5 hours in Sickbay with a completely
different Dr. McCoy, even though it sure looked like something
out of Star Trek. I think he didn't mind being called "Bones",
either...
He determined that somehow, me, Lady Anastasia wound up in the
body of his erstwhile teammate, Rogue. He explained to me
about her power absorption ability that had run uncontrolled
most of her life, and how it had apparently "copied" me into
her body.... and a number of other abilities I'd inherited.
He began with suggesting a workout routine to get me used to
my radically different physical capabilities super strength,
invulnerability, and when he told me I could fly I have to
admit, I was elated...I'd always wondered what it'd be like
to be able to soar through the violent beauty of a thunderstorm.
Then he took me into another room, where there was a comfort-
able chair and a "helmet', which he explained was a highly
advanced MRI type scanner, with banks of computers surround-
ing the perimeter of the room.
I took a seat, and let him adjust the helmet over my head before
he began a series of neurological 'scanalysis'. He'd told me
that this was to help determine the nature of the powers I brought
with me... which we later determined to be racially psionic in
nature.. and far stronger than I'd
ever imagined!
No wonder I'd had migraines for years...and he promised further
analysis to see if there was still a chance of them recurring..
or if further training could aleviate that!
But the nagging question that remained was "What happened to Rogue?"
It was something I couldn't answer, and probably wouldn't be able
to for a long time.
But he spent some time talking to me, and reassuring me, that
he would do what he could to help me adapt.
That made me feel better. I had one person I could call a friend
in this house of mystery, and he promised to properly introduce
me to the others a few at a time to make things a little easier.
We then went up stairs, and he proceeded to make good on his promise,
and I made up my mind to record my first impressions of everyone here,
in my journal.
I've already decided that Scott is an uptight whiner, and far
to serious for his own good. If he can't be in control, he's a
real jerk. I don't care much for him... And Jean, though likable,
is too nice. There's something dark inside her that she won't
deal with, and she over compensates by being too nice, and a real
nosy busybody type.... Gambit: real slick, lady's man; but I don't
quite trust him. Guy's gorgeous, but he smokes and that's a definite
turnoff.
Who else did I meet to day that merits mention here?
"Bones" is really cool, kinda odd looking, but fun to be around.
The other blue guy, Kurt is interesting, reminds me of SCA guys
I've known, and Joseph is.... not only beautiful, there's something
very strange going on with him. He's so sad. Maybe I can pry him
out of his shell a bit? My gut says he needs someone to talk to....
and something tells me there's more than white hair and blue
eyes in common between him and Ororo.
There are others I met briefly, but didn't get the names of, but
I'll meet them in the morning, Bones told me.
Now it's time to go see my room.
Jean promised me a room with it's own bathroom, and it looks like
she knew where to stick me: corner room, with lots of windows,
but the namecard in the doorslot says "Rogue" in fancy calligraphy
... Oh well.
I found my computer placed on a desk that is still dusty, like it
just came out of storage, and my black seabag propped up next to
the closet, with several packs of those plastic tubular hangers,
and then I turn my attention to the rest of the room.... There's
WAAAYY too much gingham, lace and eyelet around here for my tastes
... and it reeked of Chantilly, a perfume I happen to abhor.
I decided the room was getting aired and changed out before I
took up residence... It didn't take very long to strip the bed
of it's frou-frous and to remove the previous occupant's touches.
And thankful for the French doors and a balcony, I tied the whole
mess up in the bedspread and ran it off to the dumpster...
[Good riddance....] I thought to myself, though I had packed
the horrible knick-knacks into a box to go into storage, the
bed linens and curtains were hopeless....
It took almost half a smudge stick of sage and lavender before
that room felt "right" to me. I didn't mind the Victorian
furniture, but it took me a while to track down some civilized
linens in storage... but being a night owl, I was managing fine.
And though I had tried stretching and climbing to hang some
gorgeous dark blue velvet curtains I'd found... I had looked
down to find that I'd actually levitated in my efforts to
reach the curtain rods!
And wouldn't you know, just like a cat, I'm great at ascending
to heights, but horrible at coming back down... So I settled
for "lassoing" one of the posts on the four-poster bed with
drapery cord, and "pulled" myself over it, and then relaxed
and just "dropped" with a sigh of relief... Of course the
bedsprings squeaked horribly.... and it was then that I heard
a gentle tap on "my" door.
I was scrambling off the bed, with a bit more squeaking, when
a pretty brown haired-brown eyed girl came walking through
my door--without opening it. I got the sense she was pretty
smart, too from the way she eyed my jury-rigged PC-clone in
such a knowing way.... and when she offered to help me settle
in, starting with my computer. She had an Ethernet card in
hand and a toolkit in the other. And with her personality, I
didn't have to do much talking.
From her I learned a great deal of relevant gossip about the
Xavier Institute and other tidbits, meanwhile, I set to digging
through the dresser of my 'predecessor' to find room for my
own clothes...
Needless to say, I was rather astonished at some of he...
provocative... lingerie I discovered there, and quickly tossed
it in a laundry basket. Almost nothing there was suited to my
taste, which runs to basic black, very simple, and no lace. So
that was all "out" real quick, I'd have to settle for a tight
brassiere for a few more days, but now I knew why: 34B was
never meant to accomodate 36D!
There were some useful things though: lots of comfy looking
workout gear, some sheer black body stockings and some gorgeous
opera gloves--heck there were gloves of all kinds, some of
which went into the basket with the Frederick's leftovers...
but if it was black, or a dark jewel colour, I kept it!
But I'd have to say the worst shock was in the closet...
I burst out laughing, almost hysterically after a few minutes.
In all my life, I couldn't believe some of what I was seeing,
(and as a costumer I've seen a lot...)
Tattered cutoffs, gingham croptops, more Frederick's sleaze-
ware (tm), and typical me, I didn't hide my disdain, "Crikey,
what is this? Daisy Duke's a bleeding mutant??? I don't beeleeve
this! Kate, can you help me with this crap? I'll be damned if
I'll be caught dead in Daisy Duke slut-wear..."
I then notised that she was holding her sides, trying not to
hurt herself laughing at the look of sheer disgust on my face
as I began practically teAnang stuff out of the closet...
There was a mountain of things that were going to the "give
away" pile, and fewer things going into the "possibly salvage-
able" pile, and another pile that I'd labeled "hopeless"...
Strangely enough, it took less than all night to clean out the
closet and get the entire room set up more to my liking.