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"Okay, so all you guys have to do today--Sasha, this is for ALL of you." Joyce glared at the back of Sasha's head until he turned to face her, his expression one of innocence. "As I was saying," she continued, her smile flattening into a straight line, "all you guys have to do is answer some really easy questions. No electrodes, no goo in your hair, no mice." Frost whooped at the "no goo," but Sabrina let out a disappointed moan about the mice.
It was only the first week, and already everyone was grumbling about the seemingly endless tests. They were just working on baselines, Joyce had reassured them in the first days, and it would get more interesting after, but for the moment it was pretty boring for them all.
Joyce smiled as she passed around little notepads and pens to everyone. "Just write down the first thing to come to your mind when I ask the question. Got it? Good!" She picked up her own pad, her eyes scanning quickly before she spoke. "What is your favorite color?" Frost snorted aloud, but everyone else just scribbled something down quickly.
Renny thought about it. He wasn't sure if he ever had a favorite color. Most of the things he owned were black or gold, but he couldn't say that he actually LIKED those colors. Icy-blue eyes flashed into his mind, and with it a shock of arousal. He sat up straighter in his chair, adjusting his seat. Through his lashes he could see Joyce staring at him--the only one not finished writing. He quickly looked down and scribbled "blue."
"Now, this part is tough--write down three words you would use to describe the color." Everyone snorted at that, but with a few muted grumbles the psychics started to write.
Renny tapped his pen on the side of his glasses. What described blue? It was... He glanced over at John, hoping for a glance at those indescribable eyes to give him a hint. John's head was bent, his long hair covering his face completely as he slowly traced letters on the paper. Distant, definitely. Mysterious. Renny struggled for the final word.
John glanced up, his face impassive, his eyes shadowed. Their gazes met for a fraction of a second before Renny dropped his eyes back to his notepad.
Cold, he wrote. His pen thumped the paper hard as he stabbed a period at the end of it.
Once everyone was finished, Joyce continued. "All right, now I want you to write down your favorite animal. And!" She held her hand up, stopping the pens that started to write. "I also want you write three words to describe the animal."
Laurie leaned over Sabrina's shoulder, squeaking in her ear. They already knew what her favorite animal would be, and laughter rose up around Renny as Sasha and Parte King tried to read off each other's papers. "No looking!" Joyce reminded them, exasperated at the two oldest men acting like little boys.
Renny chuckled a little himself, but a corner of his mind took notice that John didn't seem to be laughing. Renny already knew what animal to put down. It seemed silly, but Renny like rabbits. There were cute and fuzzy and didn't seem to mean anybody harm. They just existed to be petted and eventually eaten. They seemed resigned to their fate, but rabbits were really sneaky. Underground homes, slinking around; they may look stupid, but they could be crafty little rodents.
Renny pushed his glasses up with a wrinkle of his nose and quickly wrote down three words. Crafty, small, prey. Easy. He put his pen down and waited as Sabrina and Parte King worked out their last words.
When they were done, Joyce smiled foxily, smoothing a hand down her short-cropped blonde hair. "For this last question, I need you all to close your eyes." A few groans this time, but before Renny closed his eyes he saw a few of the others already blinded, faces tilted to the ceiling. "Now, I want you to imagine that you're in a room alone. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. Even the light is white. There are no textures or patterns anywhere."
Renny pictured it; the room yawning around him, wide and tall and empty except for his breathing. Warm, white light shown down on his face, making patterns on the back of his eyelids. It was almost as though he were floating in it, in the middle of nothing.
Joyce's voice came to him from a distance, her tone low and soft to not break anyone's concentration. "Good. Think about how you feel, in this white room."
Renny could almost fall asleep like this. His erratic thoughts untangled in the white room. So peaceful, so calm, to be wrapped up in this nothingness...
"Now, open your eyes and write down the three words that describe how the room made you feel."
Renny's eyes opened reluctantly. He still had that feeling of peace as his limp hand scribbled down the words messily. Peaceful, calm, longing. They may not be the exact words he wanted to use, but the described the feeling pretty well. It was nice to imagine being there, and a part of him longed for that imagined room. He had to work to keep his eyes open, watching Joyce as he waited for the next question.
Joyce's eyes merrily skipped from one psychic's face to another, seemingly excited by the reaction of the others. Then her face twisted, her eyebrows coming together in a crease, her smile falling to a worried frown. She leaned forward, and Renny followed her gaze to where John was sitting beside him. "John? John? Are you okay?"
John didn't move in response, not even to shake his head or mumble an apology. Renny felt a cold sensation across his back, like the touch of a ghost. The hairs on his arms stood up, making his flesh tingle. Joyce stood and walked over to the plastic chair John was sprawled in. He didn't even seem to breathe.
"John?" Frost squeaked out, her hand reaching for the young man. At the same time, Joyce clasped his shoulder, shaking lightly.
In a flash of elbows, John burst into movement, rocketing off the chair and away from the hands reaching out to him. The pad and pen fell from his lap, skittering across the floor towards Renny. "Don't," he gasped, backing away as Joyce came close to him. He shook his head, his hands coming up to grasp his temples. "Fuck."
Joyce didn't move closer, and she held her hands out in front of her in a harmless manner. "It's okay, just tell me what happened, John."
He shook his head, black hair tumbling around his pale skin. His fingers dug into his scalp, his knuckles turning white. His back hit the wall, and he rested against it, curling up over his lap. His breathing was erratic, but with a few slow breaths, he brought it under control. Slowly, his fingers unclenched. John shook his head again, then lifted his face out of his hands to look at Joyce.
The woman, for her part, didn't back away from the fury in the young man's eyes. "Don't ever do that again," he said slowly, biting off every word. His voice was deep and deadly, and Renny suppressed a shiver that skittered down his spine.
She nodded her head. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't realize." She was talking in that low, soft voice again, the one she used during the white room question. "We're still trying to get used to each other. I will never do that again."
John didn't seem reassured, but neither did he look threatened by the slim, petite woman in front of him. His gaze shifted off towards the door, ignoring everyone in the room, and his hands patted around until he could fish out a cigarette and a lighter. Without even looking to Joyce for permission, he lit up, sucking on the filter like the smoke was his only lifeline.
Joyce made a face, but went back to her chair. She picked up her notepad and made a few quickly scrawled notes on the paper. Though her cheeks were flushed, she seemed back to her regular professionalism.
The rest of the psychics were in disarray, frozen in their seats or half-standing in an attempt to help. All eyes were locked on John, who didn't even bother to return the stare. The young man remained aloof, smoking and glaring through the opened door.
"Um, what the fuck just happened?"
"Sasha! Language," Joyce corrected instantly. Before Sasha could protest, she waved a hand. The tension broke with the outburst, and everyone settled back in their seats. Air rushed back into Renny's lungs as he finally took a breath.
Joyce added one last line to whatever she was writing, dotted it carefully, and with a flourish dropped the pen on top of the pad. She folded her hands together over the paper, obscuring the words as she turned her attention on the room. Her face was serious, but her eyes danced and sparkled with excitement. "As I'm sure many of you already know, John's special gift is astral projection." Several of the psychics snorted with laughter, but Joyce talked over them. "With concentration, he can leave his body and go... anywhere. Another room, another city, another country, maybe, with a little practice. What just happened..."
She looked over at John, scowling a little as he snuffed the butt on the bottom of his beat-up sneaker. "You should never suddenly startle a person who is deep in an out-of-body trance." She turned back to the group, a strained but bright smile back on her face. "But, we can talk more about that later! Soon you'll know more than you ever wanted to know about each other's gifts."
But Parte King wasn’t going to be dissuaded. "So, what would happen if he couldn't get back to his body? Could he get stuck out there, and just... die?"
"King!"
He was just getting warmed up. "And his body is all gross but he's still out there wandering the world. Like a ghost..." He turned to look at John, who refused to meet his gaze. "That's actually pretty cool."
Renny didn't think it sounded cool. The thought of leaving his body suddenly seemed frightening rather than entertaining. He'd never laugh at astral projection again.
"We're not here to discuss ghosts, King, we're here to do some testing. If you guys want to finish up in time to go to town with Mr. Zetes, we need to get back on track." Her voice was almost strident, on edge, and everyone seemed to sense that now was not the time to piss her off. Parte King made a zipping motion across his lips, but he looked over at John with something of interest. "All right. What you guys just completed wasn't just an inventory of your likes, but a kind of rudimentary personality test. The questions are designed to reveal your deepest feelings."
"Our deepest feelings about our favorite color?" Sabrina asked. She wasn't trying to make a joke, at least not from the sincerity in her tone, but everyone chuckled, glad for something to break the tension.
Even Joyce laughed a little. "No. That question actually reveals how you feel other people perceive you. Like, what I wrote." She held up her pad, giving everyone a flash of dark words written on the yellow paper before she turned it back to read off the page. "Pink: exciting, energetic, sweet. That's how I think other people feel about me."
Renny and several others nodded; it did sound right. She was a bubbling cauldron of energy, sweet in her praise and exciting in her promises. Renny glanced down at his paper and frowned. He thought people thought he was cold?
"What'd you write, Sasha?" Frost asked, flipping her hair.
Sasha stretched out in his chair, holding up his pad dramatically. "I picked Red. I described it as: crimson, scarlet, and red."
"Chump!" Parte King made a booing gesture with his hand. "You're supposed to describe the color, not give other words for it."
"Well, what'd you write, man?"
"Black: beautiful, bodacious, and cool." Parte King gave a toothy smile. "I forgot to add stunningly handsome and, as soon as this thing is over, stunningly rich."
Everyone pretty much booed Parte King's self-centered approach. Laurie ticked off her list on her pink-frosted fingertips. "Orange: lively, sexy, and--"
"Cheesy," Sasha chirped up. Frost whapped him in the stomach with her notepad, but he just laughed.
"I wrote happy, you jerk," but her expression was only faked hurt.
"Anyone else want to share?" Joyce asked. Renny surreptitiously covered his answers, feeling oddly exposed and confused by the results. Sabrina seemed to do the same. John was still keeping himself separate from the group, so Joyce didn't push him. "Okay. Well, the second question is a little deeper. It reveals how you feel about yourself."
Again, everyone eagerly looked down at their papers, as though it truly were reading their deepest thoughts. Again, Renny felt silly about his choice. Being a bunny rabbit wasn't the coolest thing in the world. Over and over, his eyes traced the final word. /Prey./
Sabrina was giggling, a high-pitched noise like a little girl. "Oooh, I'm a mouse." Laurie joined in with the giggles, doing her little mouse squeak again.
"I'm a lion." Parte King flexed his arms.
"Grrr... Tiger!" Sasha gnashed his teeth.
"Ew, I don't want to be a snake," Laurie protested. In response, Sasha stopped his growling and instead wagged his tongue out at her. Laughter filled the room.
"Ah, the laughter of children..." A familiar voice cut through the mirth, and everyone turned to the lab doors to see Mr. Zetes standing there, his long coat casting him as a tall, foreboding shadow.
"Mr. Zetes!" Joyce exclaimed. "You're early! We were just finishing up." She started to straighten papers on the table beside her.
"How happy it makes me to know you children are enjoying your stay here. And learning new things about yourself." He clasped his hands together, looking from one psychic's face to the next. Renny could barely take his eyes off him; whenever Mr. Zetes entered a room, he seemed to draw all the attention to himself. Even Parte King and Sasha showed him deference. He simply stood there a minute, with every eye locked on his face. Then he unclasped his hands and gestured grandly. "But, I am interrupting. Please, continue."
Joyce shook her head a little, gathering her thoughts. "Where was I... Oh, yes. John, what animal did you write?"
John was still staring at Mr. Zetes. Absently, it occurred to Renny that he'd been staring at the door all this time. Perhaps the head of the Institute had been there longer than he'd let them know...
"John," Mr. Zetes said. "Tell Joyce your answer."
John seemed to jump a little, then he turned his face not towards Joyce but to Renny. Renny couldn't see his eyes in the shadows of his face, but he could feel that gaze. It made the fine hairs of his arms stand up, his skin tingle. "Jackal," John answered succinctly.
"Splendid," Mr. Zetes said. Renny couldn't help but to have a Simpsons moment; there were times that the old man reminded him of Mr. Burns, and this was definitely one of them.
Luckily, Joyce seemed to forget that Renny was there. She continued with the third question. "Okay, the white room. This reveals how you feel about death."
"Scared." Sabrina looked it.
"Frightened." Frost shivered.
"Lost." Parte King shook his head, curling a lip.
"Creeped out, man." Even Sasha acted disturbed.
Frost wrapped her arms around her chest. "That was really freaky. Is that what they think death is like?"
Sasha tossed an arm around her shoulders, but with a glance at Mr. Zetes he quickly removed it. "Nah, it's all beaches and warmth, snake-woman. Lots of places for you to curl up on."
"Should be plenty warm where you're going, man," Parte King said sourly to Sasha.
Before another fight could break out, Mr. Zetes entered the room, once again calling all eyes to him. "Fascinating work, children. I'm sure that you'll have a lot to talk about in the car. We should hurry, the mall closes early on Sundays." Everyone stood, leaving their notebooks on the chairs. Joyce started to collect them as Sasha, Parte King, Frost and Sabrina filed out after Mr. Zetes. Even John started to shuffle towards the door, his fingers finding another cigarette to fondle until he was outside.
Renny lagged behind a little, picking up his notebook and Sabrina's. He smiled as he handed them dutifully to Joyce. "Thank you, Renny," she said lightly. She started to bend down to pick up the notebook John had left on the floor, but Renny stopped her.
"I can get it." He casually squatted down, slowly turning the paper until he could read the words. He only got a quick glance, but enough to know that what John had written was only scribbles and doodles, not words at all.
Somewhere inside, he felt disappointed.
He handed the last notebook to Joyce, and followed the others out to the car. The limo, actually; Mr. Zetes was already seated, and Sasha and Parte King were tossing a coin who got sit next to Laurie, who was leaning over to caress Mr. Zetes' arm as she talked. Parte King won this round, and he triumphantly slid in next to the young woman. A sore loser, Sasha held the door open, gesturing Sabrina inside.
John finished his cigarette, snuffing it out on the gravel. He rocked on his heels, but Sasha gestured him inside. "After you, Jackal-man."
John startled a little at the nickname. Everyone inside overheard it, and laughed. John growled a little, a low sound that Renny felt more than heard, but he got into the limo without saying anything. Sasha pushed Renny in after him, and then sat on the far edge of the seat, as though sensing that he wasn't on John's good side today. Though the seats were long and comfortable, he was squished up against John's side.
"Sorry," he muttered, though not exactly sure for what he was apologizing.
John just rolled down the window and took out another cigarette.
"I hope you aren't thinking of igniting that foul thing in my limo, John," Mr. Zetes said softly.
John shook his lighter, flicked his thumb over the wheel, and touched the flame to the end of his cigarette. He let the smoke roll out over his lips, sucked out the window as they started to roll towards town.