Sos
Lord of Altera
Some context: this was a world that i have been working with on and off for the past few years yet never made it past the first chapter... clean slate and all
It was the kind of sunday afternoon where one could relax; where one would catch up on basic chores and hobbies, the kind that cried out for a cold drink and activity that would resemble a sedated turtle. Yet on this beautiful, lazy day, Jack Praus found himself more and more agitated.
The source of this agitation on a otherwise perfect day on the western coast was the simple fact that his 'therapist' had decided that this was to be the time for his mandatory, weekly evaluation.
The good doctor Montire's patience seemed to be infinite, or at least helped along by the regular notifications on his phone.
'And what do you think, Jack?' the doctor asked, finally drawing enough will power to put the phone down.
'What do I think?' Jack asked while being drawn back into dull reality, his accent betraying his english origins, albeit more "northerner" than James bond. 'Well, it would help if I knew the context. Do you mean "what do I think of the state of politics" or "why are you here"? One's a joke and the other's reasoning is broken. Which is which is up for debate. but I'm actually wondering how long it has been since I had cookies.'
'I simply meant what you thought of your situation. Someone far from home can develop... issues that would need to be addressed. and judging how you react to a simple, vague question is proof of that.' The Doctor argued as he reached for this phone on the heels of a fresh vibration. 'This is only our first session so I hope to get to know you more and understand how I can help you though this transition' He said as he idely put in characters on the small screen.
'Well, this transition would go much smother if you stop texting your misses 'bout tan lines... I mean, I like bikinis too but at least I'm professional on company time...' Jack countered. 'just saying.'
The good Doctor lowered his phone to his lap and gave a stern look at Jack to little avail.
'Yes, my predecessors have made it rather clear to me that you abuse your abilities to invade the privacy of others.' He stated with a venom that was almost palatable.
And now we get to the issue.
'Oh please, If you saw what I saw, you would see that those racy photos of your significant other don't go away when you press delete; they get stored on some server in la-la land where some middle-aged divorcee sifts though all those compressed images to find the really naughty ones... Isn't technology wonderful.' Jack reasoned
'Are you always this cynical?' asked the Doctor, seeing an opportunity.
'Call it a racial trait.' replied jack. then followed a long pause.
'I think we should start at a common place, could you tell me about your parents?' the therapist asked innocently, trying to change the subject. to which Jack scrunched his face.
'Mother was a addict that would have carried me to term, presumably, in the hopes to cash me in for adoption money. As it turns out, deaf-blind metahumans don't fetch that much money on their own. I was told that she died not long after to 'reasons unknown' but I've had my three guesses' Jack stated in the same way a one would tick off a shopping list. It is a safe assumption that the therapist was taken aback by this brutal honesty. To his credit, it didn't take long for him to recover.
'I'm sorry to hear that.' He offered.
'dont bother offering false condolences, you didn't know her.' Jack shrugged.
'And your father?' the Doctor ventured.
'If he knows I exist, he has some explaining to do. But he's just some corporate type, the kind to complain about welfare in one hand and hold out the other for scrounging.' jack stated, as before but with a bitter edge. The Doctor confused this with progress.
'Sorry if this sounds insensitive, but how do you know it is him? it sounds like there is a possibility that he is not.' The doctor Asked with all the kindness he could muster, but it was all for naught.
'It is a bit Jerry springer, or whatever is one these days, but the Foundation's data is... accurate' Jack left cryptically.
'then how does that make you feel?' He asked, offering useless comfort. He only got Jack's shrug.
'I'm actually over that, doc. I've come to term with who I am a long time ago.' said Jack.
'And who is that?' the Doctor asked. the answer did not come immediately, for Jack simply got up to a mild protest from the Doctor.
'A deaf-blind Psionic that relies on his uncanny ability to use machines as his eyes and ears, that has come to this country to replace a hero lost in the line of duty. he is also two minutes over his designated hour session.' he spoke as he took his jacket from the arm of the couch. 'I am also in desperate need of cookies, or coffee, or even both.'
The Doctor didn't have any choice but to show Jack out of his office.
'This was fun, doc. Perhaps next week I can bring snacks as well chase each other in circles and get nowhere as we waste a perfect sunday afternoon..' Jack said as he walked out the office. 'or whatever hoops i need to jump through to make sure that you don't tick the box that says "crazy".' he added before he closed the door, Leaving Doctor Montire with his forms.
Chief among the papers was the one that was responsible for the continued evaluation of all Psionic metahumans, taunting the good Doctor to state that the young hero has too many issues to be in active duty... But decided against it, seeing it as more hassle than it was worth.
The source of this agitation on a otherwise perfect day on the western coast was the simple fact that his 'therapist' had decided that this was to be the time for his mandatory, weekly evaluation.
The good doctor Montire's patience seemed to be infinite, or at least helped along by the regular notifications on his phone.
'And what do you think, Jack?' the doctor asked, finally drawing enough will power to put the phone down.
'What do I think?' Jack asked while being drawn back into dull reality, his accent betraying his english origins, albeit more "northerner" than James bond. 'Well, it would help if I knew the context. Do you mean "what do I think of the state of politics" or "why are you here"? One's a joke and the other's reasoning is broken. Which is which is up for debate. but I'm actually wondering how long it has been since I had cookies.'
'I simply meant what you thought of your situation. Someone far from home can develop... issues that would need to be addressed. and judging how you react to a simple, vague question is proof of that.' The Doctor argued as he reached for this phone on the heels of a fresh vibration. 'This is only our first session so I hope to get to know you more and understand how I can help you though this transition' He said as he idely put in characters on the small screen.
'Well, this transition would go much smother if you stop texting your misses 'bout tan lines... I mean, I like bikinis too but at least I'm professional on company time...' Jack countered. 'just saying.'
The good Doctor lowered his phone to his lap and gave a stern look at Jack to little avail.
'Yes, my predecessors have made it rather clear to me that you abuse your abilities to invade the privacy of others.' He stated with a venom that was almost palatable.
And now we get to the issue.
'Oh please, If you saw what I saw, you would see that those racy photos of your significant other don't go away when you press delete; they get stored on some server in la-la land where some middle-aged divorcee sifts though all those compressed images to find the really naughty ones... Isn't technology wonderful.' Jack reasoned
'Are you always this cynical?' asked the Doctor, seeing an opportunity.
'Call it a racial trait.' replied jack. then followed a long pause.
'I think we should start at a common place, could you tell me about your parents?' the therapist asked innocently, trying to change the subject. to which Jack scrunched his face.
'Mother was a addict that would have carried me to term, presumably, in the hopes to cash me in for adoption money. As it turns out, deaf-blind metahumans don't fetch that much money on their own. I was told that she died not long after to 'reasons unknown' but I've had my three guesses' Jack stated in the same way a one would tick off a shopping list. It is a safe assumption that the therapist was taken aback by this brutal honesty. To his credit, it didn't take long for him to recover.
'I'm sorry to hear that.' He offered.
'dont bother offering false condolences, you didn't know her.' Jack shrugged.
'And your father?' the Doctor ventured.
'If he knows I exist, he has some explaining to do. But he's just some corporate type, the kind to complain about welfare in one hand and hold out the other for scrounging.' jack stated, as before but with a bitter edge. The Doctor confused this with progress.
'Sorry if this sounds insensitive, but how do you know it is him? it sounds like there is a possibility that he is not.' The doctor Asked with all the kindness he could muster, but it was all for naught.
'It is a bit Jerry springer, or whatever is one these days, but the Foundation's data is... accurate' Jack left cryptically.
'then how does that make you feel?' He asked, offering useless comfort. He only got Jack's shrug.
'I'm actually over that, doc. I've come to term with who I am a long time ago.' said Jack.
'And who is that?' the Doctor asked. the answer did not come immediately, for Jack simply got up to a mild protest from the Doctor.
'A deaf-blind Psionic that relies on his uncanny ability to use machines as his eyes and ears, that has come to this country to replace a hero lost in the line of duty. he is also two minutes over his designated hour session.' he spoke as he took his jacket from the arm of the couch. 'I am also in desperate need of cookies, or coffee, or even both.'
The Doctor didn't have any choice but to show Jack out of his office.
'This was fun, doc. Perhaps next week I can bring snacks as well chase each other in circles and get nowhere as we waste a perfect sunday afternoon..' Jack said as he walked out the office. 'or whatever hoops i need to jump through to make sure that you don't tick the box that says "crazy".' he added before he closed the door, Leaving Doctor Montire with his forms.
Chief among the papers was the one that was responsible for the continued evaluation of all Psionic metahumans, taunting the good Doctor to state that the young hero has too many issues to be in active duty... But decided against it, seeing it as more hassle than it was worth.
