[ Hitting the lights probably made it look worse than it appeared, but that's what the Gnosia is doing, isn't it? Preying on their worst fears, making them a reality. It's figured out that the people around it have more regard for Jim's life than it does - so why not use that to its advantage? The collective infection will rage - consuming Spock, Jim, and all others in its grasp - and torment everyone around them, to do as much damage as possible.
They could only hang on, and hope they lasted long enough to clean up the destruction later.
Jim doesn't have the benefits of superpowers, or any kind of nightvision technology - in this instance, he's purely human. The best he's got is his knowledge of the floorplan, even in the dark; Jim cuts across the cages, making for the back of the warehouse. There's movement next to him, but he can't quite make out Gwen, nothing more than a shade in the darkness, briefly illuminated by the moonlight of a passing window - Jim vaults over a crate, boots thudding on the metal of the other side. Spock, she's going to catch me. Spock - !
Jim catches sight of Gwen, flitting directly into his path, too late to stop his momentum - though that doesn't stop him from trying, skidding on his heels. He'd probably fall off the side of the cage and break something if not for her catching him, arms looping right around his middle like she planned it. With anyone else, the force of impact would have bowled them over - but Gwen is sturdy, stickiness keeping her planted and them both upright.
Well, for about two seconds, they're upright.
As Jim's hands move to the back of Gwen's suit, presumably to pull her away and keep fighting - there's a warmth that touches him, a hot popcorn kernel in the center of his chest. Pink, soft light floods his vision - emanating from Gwen, encapsulating Jim with it. His hands still, and the howling, gnawing void that's had a grip on his mind since he first went under yowls in pain. For the first time, the Gnosia is in pain - not him.
Jim cries out as the light glows brighter, bigger - a hazy bubblegum color that chases away the shadows. Quite literally, actually - black-as-night, oil-slick shadows whose shapes outline themselves grotesquely against Gwen's light - they disintegrate, banished from Jim's person. He slumps against her like a marionette whose strings have been cut, knees buckling beneath him, as he's freed. He can't hear the voices anymore, and it seems so - so quiet without them, dizzying and disorientingly so.
Jim finally hugs her back, trying to get his feet under him, but he feels wobbly and off-kilter - especially now that the preternatural force isn't driving him to extremes, he can feel everything his body has been through in the past...Jesus, he doesn't even know how long. ] ...Gwen...?
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They could only hang on, and hope they lasted long enough to clean up the destruction later.
Jim doesn't have the benefits of superpowers, or any kind of nightvision technology - in this instance, he's purely human. The best he's got is his knowledge of the floorplan, even in the dark; Jim cuts across the cages, making for the back of the warehouse. There's movement next to him, but he can't quite make out Gwen, nothing more than a shade in the darkness, briefly illuminated by the moonlight of a passing window - Jim vaults over a crate, boots thudding on the metal of the other side. Spock, she's going to catch me. Spock - !
Jim catches sight of Gwen, flitting directly into his path, too late to stop his momentum - though that doesn't stop him from trying, skidding on his heels. He'd probably fall off the side of the cage and break something if not for her catching him, arms looping right around his middle like she planned it. With anyone else, the force of impact would have bowled them over - but Gwen is sturdy, stickiness keeping her planted and them both upright.
Well, for about two seconds, they're upright.
As Jim's hands move to the back of Gwen's suit, presumably to pull her away and keep fighting - there's a warmth that touches him, a hot popcorn kernel in the center of his chest. Pink, soft light floods his vision - emanating from Gwen, encapsulating Jim with it. His hands still, and the howling, gnawing void that's had a grip on his mind since he first went under yowls in pain. For the first time, the Gnosia is in pain - not him.
Jim cries out as the light glows brighter, bigger - a hazy bubblegum color that chases away the shadows. Quite literally, actually - black-as-night, oil-slick shadows whose shapes outline themselves grotesquely against Gwen's light - they disintegrate, banished from Jim's person. He slumps against her like a marionette whose strings have been cut, knees buckling beneath him, as he's freed. He can't hear the voices anymore, and it seems so - so quiet without them, dizzying and disorientingly so.
Jim finally hugs her back, trying to get his feet under him, but he feels wobbly and off-kilter - especially now that the preternatural force isn't driving him to extremes, he can feel everything his body has been through in the past...Jesus, he doesn't even know how long. ] ...Gwen...?