(no subject)

[flip_the_lights]

They found another one of the Cortexiphan kids this week: Simon Phillips. He wasn't in Olivia's "class"; he took part in the Wooster trials several states over, and was kicked out after his primary skill turned toward mind reading.

Olivia was the first person he'd met in twenty years who could enter his house and not start a cacophony. Two decades of uncontrolled telepathy, with the Cortexiphan in Olivia's body -- how it triggered a barrier to her thoughts, one Simon couldn't cross for whatever reason -- offering him the only relief.

Two decades of living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, because otherwise, he'd go completely insane from the noise.

Now, she's at a table with a glass of whiskey, studying it with more care than strictly necessary. Her problem, she thinks, has always been finding the so-called "on" switch -- never in turning it off again. Maybe it's time to explore the benefits of both.

Comments

[flip_the_lights]

"Yeah." No louder than Charlie. "My own exposure to Cortexiphan caused some sort of interference; he couldn't read my thoughts. I was the only person in twenty years who didn't cause him pain."

[ladyfirestarter]

"That sounds a lot more like what my kids back home had to deal with." Very quietly.

[flip_the_lights]

Olivia sighs out a curse under her breath, shaking her head. She glances over to her empty glass.

"I can't imagine," she murmurs. "But if I have the chance to avoid something like that..."

[ladyfirestarter]

"Is telepathy one of those things you've had ... flashes of?"

[flip_the_lights]

"No," she says.

The not yet remains unvoiced.

[ladyfirestarter]

"... but you're worried it might." Subdued. "Yeah."