trilluminati | voicemail

What? Blogging? Yeah that would do...irreparable damage to the street cred.

Personal logs, meant to help a man vent, order his thoughts, and keep him healthy. Only people with access to them would be you and your personal physician, baby bear.

Maybe. I don't exactly have time for that. I haven't slept since I got it all back. Not all of the vision was bad. Some stuff was...innocuous, you know? Harmless shit. Alternative energy, exploring new frequencies -- I remember a stick of incense with impossible physics that never burned down.

Things like that are pitched to scientists and communities for a reason. The bullshit that comes with academia and the bureaucracy slows everything down but it's there to keep things safe, fair, and from doing...

[He waves a hand at the window]

Shit like this. Neural grafting is going to take another additional three or four years just to get other surgeons on board with it, trained up, and convinced of it's safety- and I invented the procedure as something life saving.

[ Q snorts. ]

That sounds like something that'd come in handy now.

Don't have the equipment or a viable donor, and I'm not clon'n one for you.

Believe me, I ain't asking you to.

[ He will roll his eyes until: ]

I might be the one responsible for our next plus one.

What are you plann'n?

[ Q presses his lips together. ]

I have to figure out how to cure a somnua. If-- it can be done. And I got this gnawing feeling we ain't got much time to figure it out-- Doc--

[ HOOD. ]

I really think I could.

How.

[For a moment he leaves the hood alone. Just a moment. Then he reaches over and pulls it down further- covering Q's face entirely for a second or two before flicking it back. Really kid.]

Explain the process to me. Walk me through it. You wouldn't be planning on it if you didn't have some idea.

You ever figure out Patient Zero, Doc?

The Spark. I've seen her.

The somnua are-- wrecked. But if I could grab their consciousness, clean it up like I did for the cap'n, and introduce it to Sparky, I might be able to save them.

[ Extra-hood. ]

N'n'iwou'n'ha'ta'worryboutyounomo'.

[He's gonna rip the hoodie right off your back at this goddamn rate, kid. Hood up, back, and held in place as he leans in because what in god's name was that last bit?]

Say that again.

[He knows he was made differently. He knows he was made without the spark. He knows that it makes him some kind of abomination but goddamn what does that mean in the long run?]

Take it with a grain of salt, aiight?

[ Q rubs at his furry collar. Ease up on the trademark, brah. ]

But I remember Site A now. What happened to the guys Beaumont brought in? And Doc, Helen and I broke into that lab they, uh, "vivified" you in, to use their word. That was Beaumont method. But I ain't-- saying that's what's gon happen to you.

[ Now he's yanking at his hood too. ]

But I haven't slept since the idea got in my head. They, uh, they all...

...How long?

[How long does he have, is there any data he can use to make some kind of time frame, anything he can do to slow the process because it is so goddamn better to plan on becoming one of those things than it is to worry about-

He'll have to tell Jim.

No, he can't do that. It'll kill him.

Malcolm, then.

Shit.]

[ Q opens up his palms. Real talk. ]

No telling. Don't matter. I'm hot on fixing this. I told you I'd help you, nah? I just don't ever want to have to improvise like I had to do with the cap'n. Never again. I'm bad under pressure. It just don't agree with me at awwwlll.

It matters.

[He knew what set Stevenson and company down their monstrous road and he's been careful but if it just happens, if they just goddamn change...shit.]

I'm gonna have to start monitoring myself more carefully.

No. You not. This whole thing's a moot point, but the thing is if I ever fuck up trying it--

I couldn't do it to you, Doc. Hypothetically. But I gotta do it. And I know I'm sound on a solution.

Tell me what you've got sorted out so I know what I'll have to do. Jim and I just got settled and I don't want to have to go back to him and tell him he might need to kill me before I become a danger to everyone around me.

For now? Honestly? Please just relax. I ain't even trippin' on that -- you gotta stay as zen as possible. Why do you think you're surrounded by fuckin' therapists? Fake therapists, whatever, but still.

...

[He doesn't even ask, just pats down Q's pockets until he finds a blunt and pulls it out, holding his hand up for a lighter.]

Gonna have to make a goddamn habit of this-

... Hahahaha.

I'll go jogging with you or something. Maybe we can lotus style with Irvine.

[ Q presses his boots together sole-to-sole and presses his fingers together in the divine mudra. ]

[Lit and lit up, McCoy takes a quick drag and offers it to Q without question.]

Gym. Grimm's been putt'n me in shape.

I saw. There are monitors around this whole compound, you know.

[ Q steams through his nose. ]

I'm glad you came around, momma bear. I was trippin'. I'm sorry.

[ He offers an apology up with the L. Twofer ]

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