For lastvoyages: Eighteenth Vision [video+spam]

[can_has_vodka]

 [Arkady appears onscreen, surrounded by a faint purple halo. She seems oddly serene in spite of the shattered, half-working neon lighting the street all around her.]

Right, loves, I'm heading down to Old Gotham to start ferrying people out. If anyone needs immediate help or transport, I'm keeping this line open. 

[spam]
[Arkady appears atop a pile of rubble at the edge of Old Gotham, and looks around briefly before settling into the Lotus position. She casts her mind outward like a net, seeking intelligent thoughts, checking them long enough to determine the person's situation and then moving on unless they turned out to be someone in trouble. Six blocks away, a would-be rapist goes into sudden convulsions and drops like a stone.]

Comments

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

I can do a whole neighborhood at a time now. Any more than that and we'd have to give me an upgrade, and I don't want to put you through that.

The problem is that it's a huge bombardment of information, and having someone else who is very focused as an anchor helps me a great deal.

Re: Spam

[umgekehrt]

Anchor. You'd focus on my location, then? Would it help to hold the comm so that you're seeing what I am?

[He's picking his way through the logistics of telepathy.]

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

Just keep talking to me. It will get easier once you reac me. I won't go poking about in your head, but I can show you imagery of the various areas and the information I am gaining by category.

Spam

[umgekehrt]

Ah-- right. Circling in. Go ahead and... show me if there's anything.

[He moves from cover to cover without thinking about it, eyes on doorways and open windows with a healthy, life-extending dose of paranoia.]

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

[Arkady responds with something she saw in a movie; readouts suddenly appear in the sides of his vision, including a mini-map with dots representing hostile, neutral or frightened minds. The hostiles are mostly at the edges.]

Thanks for this. Once we get back I'll make you the best Mixed Race Coffee I can.

Spam

[umgekehrt]

[As his vision changes he stops dead, looking sharply left and right as if he can find the screens suddenly occupying his peripheral vision. It's... a new sensation, this. And he pauses, ducking into an alley with his eyes shut, to get the hang of it before he starts off again. There: mostly together.]

The best which, now?

[After some experimentation, he heads toward a group of 'frightened' dots.]

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

Irish Turkish coffee with a shot of Kahlua. It's an after dinner sort of drink.

I'll clear the way for you. It's a family hiding from the gangsters outside. They managed to steal some food for their kids and the gangers are completely pissed off about losing a few sandwiches.

Spam

[umgekehrt]

Sounds as good as sex.

[He approaches carefully, pausing before the 'hostile' dots.]

They're still on their feet, right? I'll try not to fire shots if I don't have to, but it may come to that. [He checks the load on his pilfered rifle, slotting his last spare ammo into the magazine.]

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

Well, I think there's considerable overlap between the lower end of a good shag and the higher end of this drink. Hee hee....

[She concentrates.]

There are three men guarding six. They have automatic rifles. They are waiting for someone--presumably their boss.

Spam

[umgekehrt]

Hnn.

[He focuses on the readout.]

Can you give me an ETA on the head man, and maybe a room layout?

[He sounds as if he's not sure if he's asking too much.]

Spam

[can_has_vodka]

[One of the figures becomes outlined in a glowing orange circle.] That's her. The one in the clown makeup and the gray jumpsuit.