Limits

Autumn Dome 

Roiling clouds of purplish mist can be seen among the distant ersatz crags that have been built along the massive bulkhead of the sprawling Autumn Dome.

Frothing crystalline blue waterfalls spill into dramatic false gorges. Hundreds of acres of transplanted green forests are alive with squawking, growling and hooting wildlife. A sparkling blue river winds its way under the monorail track that leads to the various inhabited communities of the dome.

An archway leads back into the residential quarter.

Volsa'aishian sits rather far back from the entrance, on a rough patch of simulated rock next to the path that leads out of the forest. Her light surrounds her with crisp navy green, and she swings one foot idly as she watches the entrance from her vantage point.

Kavian steps into the dome tenatively, peering at a datapad in his hand. As he slips through the door one hand reaches back, flicking the switch on a small rectangular object on his belt. Immediately the telltale discomforting blocking field falls from around his form. He glances around in slow sweeps as he wanders along, not sure what or who he seeks.

Inhumanly green eyes make a single sweep of the newcomer; without so much as a flicker of her aura Volsa'aishian sets a hand lightly on her swordhilt and jumps the couple of feet down from her rock. She tosses her head, then turns to lift her hat down from where it rested beside her. One bright hand comes up, sweeping her loose hair back into place, and she places the hat on her head as she turns to the entrance again.

Kavian picks up the movement first, eyes moving to track the change in the feel of the surroundings. Then it is the color that keeps his attention, the blur of green as she lands and composes herself piquing his curiosity. His path alters to approach her before he thinks of it, and he waits till he is close enough to not raise his voice to speak. "I believe I am here to see you, miss. I am Kavian Askani."

Volsa'aishian keeps her eyes on Kavian for a moment, offering him a smile that is so subtly edged that it appears toneless at first glance. "Mr. Askani," she says, touching her hat in a long fluid motion that is not too far from a bow, "or do you prefer Kavian? I am Shian, and you are correct if they have not completely misled me." Her aura glimmers, a stray touch of pink or gold shivering up and then disappearing into green again on occasion.

Kavian smiles and nods deeply, coming to a stop a few paces before her and folding his hands behind his back. "Kavian please, miss Shian. I do poorly at formalities." He risks the briefest appraising glance before taking a breath and beginning in earnest. "You come well reccomended...though I know about as much of my contact as I do of you, really. I'll answer any questions you have on the...project, before I offer a few of my own and we get down to details."

The Vollistan's eyes are friendly enough despite that tight masklike smile. She nods in her turn, and settles one hand back into her pocket while the other remains light and casual on her swordhilt. "And just Shian, friend. Your human designations don't apply to me very well at all, I'm afraid. Assuming that the subject in question is not a Nall, and not a Vollistan...?" her voice lifts into a question that lingers into a pause.

Kavian shakes his head simply and answers likewise. "Neither. The subject is a Timonae. And she is a willing participant, of course."

"That makes it," Volsa'aishian says, evidently choosing her words very precisely, "a great deal easier. I am given to understand that a lack of harm to her is of the utmost importance?" Her smile arcs a little more, quirking into something vaguely self-mocking.

"The utmost." Kavian answers without hesitation, his features becoming solemn. "This would be strictly to heal...she is afflicted with delusions, combined with the effects of strong psychological manipulation. Timonae are not known for their strong strength of will, as I'm sure you know. I'm afraid she was subverted to the point that she began to have rather...detailed delusions about major areas of her life. She was able to realize that she had this issue, but now she is unable to understand what of her memories are true, and what are fabrications. We wish to separate the two, and see if whatever rift that caused them can be healed."

Volsa'aishian's hat-brim dips once, rather abruptly: the nod screens her eyes for a moment, and when that green gaze sweeps back into view it is thoughtful, touched with amusement in the very depths. "Come," she says, the hand in her pocket slipping out to sweep along the path back into the trees, "we'll walk for a moment, Kavian. In this case it would appear to be very important for you to know the details of what I do."

Kavian blinks once, perhaps understanding that he assumes too much, and nods silently as they start away. His feet moves quickly to match pace at her side, keeping his hands tucked behind him as he waits for her to continue.

The Vollistan's footfalls are slow and even on the rough path, crunching slightly over whatever representation of gravel they have managed here. She is obviously keeping the pace down; her long legs make even a casual stroll like this somewhat brisk for most. Shian's smile touches once more on subtle edges, subtle mockery, and she says, "Any mind is an enormously complex thing, Kavian, to start with the self-evident. None of us mortals is capable of changing a mind to what we would wish it to be through a single touch; we all have one or two tools with which we may be more than competent, but none of us can wield them all. In a very technical sense, I cannot 'heal' a mind that has been damaged. What I can do is restore memories, fix them, change them: restore old pathways that have been broken, or create new ones of my own devising. To use an analogy, I can set a broken arm but it requires somethign else completely to heal it if it is broken." She pauses - it is obviously a pause and not a full stop - glancing over for acknowledgement.

Kavian nods faintly, keeping his eyes on the path beneath them as they continue along. Questions are evident in his eyes, but he keeps them to himself for the time.

Volsa'aishian's eyes remain on Kavian's face for a moment, probing. Her aura sighs into a slightly brighter shade, and she echoes the nod after a second. "The analogy fails us here, friend. From the outside it is very difficult to tell what is needed. In this, I'm afraid, a non-psionic is quite blind. You are trying to tell in a dark room whether we need antibiotics, a cast, or if it is simply a sprain and time and rest will fix it." The crunching of her footfalls slows to a stop as a small bridged stream leaps enthusiastically across the path ahead; she stalls out and turns to the man beside her, her glance seeking his.

Kavian slows and stops before the chilly rushing water, looking to it a long moment before turning his eyes up to the Light Singer's. "I believe I understand...forgive my ignorance on the matter. The majority of psionics that I have seen...or thought I had seen...were both antagonistic and rather impressive in scope. It is easy to believe that any given psion possesses diverse abilities."

Kavian is with Shian some distance from the entrance, speaking quietly with the Light Singer in front of a small bridge-spanned stream.

This smile is nearly a grin, snapped across the Vollistan's delicate lips like tight wire. There is nothing friendly in it suddenly, only tight harsh smused mockery; it lingers a moment and then softens, though only a little. "We prefer you to believe that, friend," she says, "and so your ignorance is not unexpected. I live on Mars right now, you know." Volsa'aishian apparently believes that to mean something, for she lets it sink in before going on, "In any case, I'll need you to tell me exactly what you believe is wrong, and get as much history as possible from you."

GoldenHawk steps into the Dome and walks down the path, looking about. He is obviously seeking something or someone.

Kavian uncrosses his hands from behind him, slowly moving up to the peak of the bridge and looking down into the water. "Frankly, I.../we/ believe that a fair portion of her memories and emotions over the past month or two are complete fabrications by her own mind. She remembers things that simply didn't happen...she has seen people in ways they cannot possibly be. Far beyond being naive or prejudiced towards or against them. She may have just 'made up' who they were to her. It started when she befriended a certain Mystic here on the station. A self-proclaimed 'Master' and psionics teacher...he was more fond of promoting mystery and awe about him than even most psions." His face darkens and he takes a breath, allowing the first part of the information to be assimilated.

Volsa'aishian stands on the bank of the little stream, screened by the forest from the entrance. Her aura is calm, a near-soothing shade of flowing green that mimics the stream's leaping liquid patterns. "Kavian," she says without hesitation, eyes looping up from the water to the man again, "you are or are not saying that harmful psionics were used upon her? From your phraseology I can't be sure."

GoldenHawk spies Kavian standing on a bridge down the pathway and waves...Then noticing he is talking to someone else Hawk stops.Not wanting to intrude but knowing he should.

Kavian notes Hawk and nods distractedly in greeting, then turns back to his conversation. He seems...well, perhaps not at ease, but his curiosity at whatever discussion they are holding is the only real emotion evident.

The Vollistan glances incuriously at GoldenHawk, her green gaze slipping back beneath her hat's brim to Kavian and then away as she leans back against a convenient tree and crosses one leg over the other. "And if you know, I need to be sure, Kavian," she prompts seriously.

Kavian shakes his head. "No psionics were used. Or rather, such small ablilities were used that they themselves will probably not be able to be seen. He pretended to...made sure she had heard the tales of his abilites and frightened and intimitated her...the domination of her already fragile mind at that point required no overt power, only a few subtle suggestions at the right times. The rest was done by her own mind. She thought she was completely under his control. She called him 'Master' whenever he was around. She did what he told her to in his presence. She wanted to be near him whenever she knew he was on the station. Her delusion was so complete, that she felt free of his 'powers' whenever she stood near a psi blocker."

GoldenHawk takes Kavians nod as a sign to come ahead, so he does so. Almost reaching the bridge, before he sees the Vollistan. He stops a short distance away ,so that his Psi-blocker doesn't effect her...." Kavian, I'm sorry to bother you. I need just a moment of your time .Then I'll leave you to your talk with the Lady."

Quiet stacatto pops of orange surface around Shian. Levelly, she lets her green gaze glide back to GoldenHawk, where it stays as another sharp mocking smile surfaces. "I will wait," she says simply.

Kavian is distracted again by Hawk and looks to him with a vague touch of irritation that needs no color to imply. He glances to Shian and nods, then steps away, toward the Qua. "This is a rather poor time, Hawk. What do you want?"

 TML Wyldfire rises above Demaria and moves in to dock with Concordance Station, thrusters firing to make minor adjustments.

GoldenHawk frowns at his friends irritation " I just thought you would want to know that Jemini is on her way and will be on the Station Tonight........Now I will leave you to your Lightsinger...Good Night." He turns and walks away.

Kavian sighs darkly, making no move to follow Hawk but calling after him. "Thanks. If you catch her, put her in the Prospector when she arrives if she'd like to rest somewhere. The first class cabin is free now." He turns away then, moving back toward the Vollistan.

GoldenHawk gives a disgusted wave over his shoulder and leaves.

Volsa'aishian watches GoldenHawk until the Qua disappears through the trees, amusement very faintly tracing her mouth. "You make interesting choices in friends, Kavian," she observes tonelessly, glancing back at him. "In the case of your other friend, if she has a condition which allows her to delude herself to such a high degree, I don't quite understand why you come to me instead of a psychologist. Certainly I can manufacture memories and place them in her mind, removing the ones she currently has; it's a very large undertaking, to recreate several weeks or months of time, and it rather does seem that you'll be curing the symptoms often if you don't get to the root cause."

Kavian chuckles rather humorlessly at the comment about his friends, then listens quietly through the rest before speaking. "The reason I felt the need to seek a psion out was to remove the false memories. I thought perhaps that she had the 'true' perceptions of what happened locked beneath whatever fantasy she has laid over the top of it. As well, I have heard of psions that use their gifts to help with disorders such as this, taking a more 'first hand' approach to it." He pauses, slipping his hands into his pockets, and sighs. "I think that our mutual contact had our best intrests in mind, but did not fully understand what I asked. Unless you are adept with rummaging through false memories to find truth beneath, I fear that your particular skills, however great, would not help us."

Strong white fingers trace an idle circle around the swordhilt as Shian lets her eyes drop into the stream again. All at once she shakes her head rather quickly at the water. "I have the ability to remove memories, and to keep others, Kavian, even subconscious ones. No one will be able to sort the true from the false, though, if she really does believe in the memories completely and wholly. The mind only stores what it is given; it doesn't have an outside reference which tells it what is in any way 'real' in an objective sense." Her eyes flick up, and something dark looms through her aura. "You're essentially asking for me to play God, friend, and dictate what she remembers. I can do so, but I don't recommend it if you value her. If she is willing, take her to a psychologist. There /are/ good ones out there." She grins, a sudden genuine expression that lights up her face with real laughter for a moment. "...of which I've met more than my share. They'll be able to prevent a reocurrance, and let her shape her own perception of events."

Kavian follows her gaze to the water, and lets it rest there long minutes before he speaks. "I see. I suppose looking for 'magic' to solve things was foolish from the start." He turns squarely toward her, taking a deep breath and assuming a calm, diplomatic demeanor, though his eyes are still dull with defeat. "Thank you for your honesty, Shian. I do value her...enough to help her through this in whatever manner will keep her whole." His right hand leaves his pocket and opens one of his belt pouches, rummaging around. "I am very sorry for pulling you away from your affairs for naught. What would be a reasonable compensation for the counsel you have given me?"

The long angular curve of Shian's body inverts, flipping away from the tree to straighten to its full seven and a half feet. a couple of steps take her close to Kavian, dancing shimmers of green and wispy copper and blue all twining around her like living smoke. "Friend," she says, and her leaf-coloured eyes are wholly candid now, "if you listen very closely to what I say next, that will be my compensation for an evening's trip. Will you listen?"

Kavian looks up to meet Shian's eyes, and he nods solemnly. "I will. I am..." his voice loses the diplomatic tone, for a single moment moment trembling, lost. "...desperate for wisdom in this."

Volsa'aishian smiles very gently; darkness and warmth mingle strangely in her gaze. "I have a great deal of experience with ...many types of people who have experienced mental harm, Kavian," she murmurs, mockery surfacing in her voice if not her face, "especially given my old profession." The mockery smoothes away into composure. "We're all remarkably resilient. You stand here as if this is hopeless, and I can tell you that it is not. Your friend will need to put a great deal of effort, a great deal od energy and soul-searching into her healing, but if she does that it /will/ happen. It will not help her if you don't believe in her abilities."

Kavian listens, but does not speak immediately after she is done. His eyes search hers, so alien to him but still looking for some further measure of...hope? "You...are right, of course. My own feelings on what has happened make me less than objective at times. But I believe you know what you speak of. If you think there is still a way for her to be whole again...then I will try as you say. We both will." He nods again very deeply, taking a step back. "I'll trouble you no further tonight. I cannot express my gratitude. Keep my mail access listing...should there be a way I could be of service to you, please do not hesitate to ask."

The tight, faintly smiling mask is already slipping over Volsa'aishian's face again, though her eyes remain clear. "I would recommend my own psychologist, Kavian, but he will not leave Vollista. I will keep your name and you will keep mine; should you be uncertain and need someone less involved to speak with let me know. It would be... interesting, sometime, to share stories." She lifts her hat from her head, sweeping stray tendrils of hair out of her face again before replacing it. "Nalia strengthen you, friend. You may find this easier than you anticipate."

Kavian offers a smile, sincere but requiring effort, as he takes a few steps back down the path toward the main door. "I hope you are right. Safe travels, Shian. We'll talk again soon, I hope. Perhaps I will have good news to share." He pivots on his foot in midstride and starts away, hands in his pockets, head bowed, but perhaps not quite so dark of countenance as before.

Volsa'aishian takes two steps to the side of the stream, hunkering down with her sword swept carefully back. Leaning forward on the balls of her feet she dips a turquoise-lit white hand into the sparkling water, letting it run around her fingers without looking back towards Kavian. As he nears the exit her mind reaches out, a faint bridging, and brushes against his in a farewell that speaks of genuine wellwishing; reassurance and hope are clear in the mindtouch as well, and then it is gone and Shian is once more only someone behind in the trees.