06-16-2014, 07:51 AM
The man - Jensen still did not know his name - stuck by his point. He had a message he wanted to deliver and he used all the tricks in the book to get it across. Jensen hid a hint of a smile. "Fancy yourself a palm reader?"
Jensen nodded and accepted Hood's palm. As to the condition of his skin, itself, Jensen vaguely noticed its rough-edges or the strong lines of inner tendons. In fact, he barely noticed anything about the hand, other than the warmth of another person that came with it.
The warmth was what he needed to connect what was represented by the laying on of hands to himself. The Gift grew in his mind, it blazed bright like the sun moments before an eclipse, and it filled him with joy he wished he'd accepted four years ago.
Either way, he accepted it now. That joy etched itself into the edges of his expression, a subtle, but sweet moment that quickly filtered into focus. He didn't know how he did it only to repeat what he'd done before - the night Jessika found him on the street.
Jensen felt the playful mocking in the man's voice. He couldn't help but smile slightly: he'd never been accused of being a palm-reader before. As far as white picket fences went, there were none at this table likely to live anywhere like that in the near future. Although it sounded nice.
There was little strain to do what came naturally as breathing. He was merely focused on the web of colors streaking the air around Hood and knitting themselves closer and closer to the flesh.
Jensen laid his other hand across their's so that Hood's was sandwiched in between. Charlene was watching, he noticed from the corner of his eye, but her distraction couldn't dissuade Jensen from the blessing of the Gift. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, excited and thrilled to make the connection. There was nothing greater, no joy more exultant than the moment the Gift settled.
He held onto Hood's eyes, watching closely for the recognition of such a moment. Now.
Only after the Gift was laid did he let go. He'd never laid it across someone who wasn't gravely injured. So nothing knit itself together. No physical wound was sealed up clean as freshly fallen snow. Energy flowed, however, pure and jubilant. Would Hood feel it? If so, would he understand what Jensen was trying to accomplish? That that's what he meant by trying to save people? How he'd done so for Connor? And Jatinder? and Pao? and the rest of the kids?
"All due respect, sir, but I don't want to hurt someone to save another. I don't think I can."
He replied, adamant.
The Gift gave him courage to continue. Jensen steadied himself with a breath, but such steadiness was only to keep footing atop the slick rocks of a steep waterfall. A single momentary lapse in focus and he'd be swept under and shattered on the rocks below. "But if you came with me?"
We could do it. He finished his thought.
Jensen nodded and accepted Hood's palm. As to the condition of his skin, itself, Jensen vaguely noticed its rough-edges or the strong lines of inner tendons. In fact, he barely noticed anything about the hand, other than the warmth of another person that came with it.
The warmth was what he needed to connect what was represented by the laying on of hands to himself. The Gift grew in his mind, it blazed bright like the sun moments before an eclipse, and it filled him with joy he wished he'd accepted four years ago.
Either way, he accepted it now. That joy etched itself into the edges of his expression, a subtle, but sweet moment that quickly filtered into focus. He didn't know how he did it only to repeat what he'd done before - the night Jessika found him on the street.
Jensen felt the playful mocking in the man's voice. He couldn't help but smile slightly: he'd never been accused of being a palm-reader before. As far as white picket fences went, there were none at this table likely to live anywhere like that in the near future. Although it sounded nice.
There was little strain to do what came naturally as breathing. He was merely focused on the web of colors streaking the air around Hood and knitting themselves closer and closer to the flesh.
Jensen laid his other hand across their's so that Hood's was sandwiched in between. Charlene was watching, he noticed from the corner of his eye, but her distraction couldn't dissuade Jensen from the blessing of the Gift. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, excited and thrilled to make the connection. There was nothing greater, no joy more exultant than the moment the Gift settled.
He held onto Hood's eyes, watching closely for the recognition of such a moment. Now.
Only after the Gift was laid did he let go. He'd never laid it across someone who wasn't gravely injured. So nothing knit itself together. No physical wound was sealed up clean as freshly fallen snow. Energy flowed, however, pure and jubilant. Would Hood feel it? If so, would he understand what Jensen was trying to accomplish? That that's what he meant by trying to save people? How he'd done so for Connor? And Jatinder? and Pao? and the rest of the kids?
"All due respect, sir, but I don't want to hurt someone to save another. I don't think I can."
He replied, adamant.
The Gift gave him courage to continue. Jensen steadied himself with a breath, but such steadiness was only to keep footing atop the slick rocks of a steep waterfall. A single momentary lapse in focus and he'd be swept under and shattered on the rocks below. "But if you came with me?"
We could do it. He finished his thought.