[ Jean is no stranger to the wave of confusion that emanates from the Ingress as more and more new people arrive, so much so that they all begin to feel largely the same. She tries, of course; she tries not to invade their thoughts, but it's difficult to shut herself off to them when they need help, shocked from the sudden change from their world to this.
And so she helps where she can, because if she can't be a familiar face she can at least be a friendly one -- of course, she'd want to be here if any of her teammates came through the Ingress.
The Ingress doesn't stay quiet for long, and her thoughts are disrupted by the next person who barrels through the machine. Disrupted seems like a weak word for the way the surge of violence and rage burns through her thoughts like a forest fire, a burning storm of emotion and thought, raw and wild, fueled by a sense of hopelessness so powerful that it nearly makes her sick. Jean's met a lot of people in her life, felt their pain, their triumphs, their heartache and joy -- and there's only one other person who's felt like this, more animal than man, vicious and feral.
She hesitates when he draws the gun on her, eyes widening -- there are no bullets in the gun, but it doesn't matter when the sheer agony of his thoughts, of his own existence and all the horrors that were perpetrated on him invades her consciousness, an overwhelming fury and pain that demands to be felt, to be known. He feels more animal than man, a lie imposed on him by all that he's endured, and Jean swallows hard, the taste of his vengeance bitter in her mouth. ]
I'm not here to hurt you. [ She says quietly, palms up. Wisdom dictates she puts distance between them both; compassion guides her a step forward. He can tear her throat out with his teeth if he chooses (she's seen what he's done to others), but Jean will take that gamble. ] My name is Jean, and I'm new here too, just like you.
i.
And so she helps where she can, because if she can't be a familiar face she can at least be a friendly one -- of course, she'd want to be here if any of her teammates came through the Ingress.
The Ingress doesn't stay quiet for long, and her thoughts are disrupted by the next person who barrels through the machine. Disrupted seems like a weak word for the way the surge of violence and rage burns through her thoughts like a forest fire, a burning storm of emotion and thought, raw and wild, fueled by a sense of hopelessness so powerful that it nearly makes her sick. Jean's met a lot of people in her life, felt their pain, their triumphs, their heartache and joy -- and there's only one other person who's felt like this, more animal than man, vicious and feral.
She hesitates when he draws the gun on her, eyes widening -- there are no bullets in the gun, but it doesn't matter when the sheer agony of his thoughts, of his own existence and all the horrors that were perpetrated on him invades her consciousness, an overwhelming fury and pain that demands to be felt, to be known. He feels more animal than man, a lie imposed on him by all that he's endured, and Jean swallows hard, the taste of his vengeance bitter in her mouth. ]
I'm not here to hurt you. [ She says quietly, palms up. Wisdom dictates she puts distance between them both; compassion guides her a step forward. He can tear her throat out with his teeth if he chooses (she's seen what he's done to others), but Jean will take that gamble. ] My name is Jean, and I'm new here too, just like you.