A Cursory Examination

[Typhoid]

It wasn't good news in the slightest. She shook her head slowly after a moment, almost looking ill. "I doubt...that I'll last that long." She could survive, yes, but not without employing a part of her powers that would put people in danger, not to mention bind her to someone who may or may not want it. "It's progressing too fast, even for Forge."

[Odin]

::The argument from expediency was often the one which encouraged people to set aside their preferences or their otherwise hard limits. Odin recognized that, and his next suggestion was not one he made lightly.:: "You have another option, but I can't say you'll like it."

[Typhoid]

She stared at him for a long moment. "Excuse me?" It wasn't that she hadn't heard what he'd said; she heard it loud and clear. But she'd been without powers, for a little while. And it was a state that she knew she couldn't stand to be in.

[Odin]

::It occurred to Odin, in the back of his mind he was prone to ignore, that he desired a glass of gin; however, he'd promised that he wouldn't drink until this was over. That was for the best. At the moment, he didn't have the resistance for imbibing; he barley had the fortitude for sparring.:: "I assure you that I find it just as distasteful, if not more so. It's also not something I would bring up if it weren't a serious situation, but your choices are few right now. I can't take you with me; if I could, I'd work on this in the air."

[Typhoid]

She would have preferred the latter option, but it was out. She didn't reply to him, instead putting one hand out, taking off her glove, and watched as her hand went from solid to transparent in about a second, once the effects of the technology in the glove went away. "I already have another way to survive," she said after a long moment. "The only thing holding me back is morality. Nature isn't moral, I suppose." She slowly put her glove back on. "But it is about balance. And I don't believe that knowing you, and being familiar with what you can do, when I'm having such a problem is coincidence. I think it's balance." She spoke as if she were talking to him, but mostly it was to herself, to make sure her ideas didn't sound crazy. She thought about what Pietro would say; he'd support her, like he always did, but he wouldn't like the idea any more then she did. And the Professor...would understand, if not agree.

[Odin]

"From a survival standpoint, your other option wouldn't be much use in the long term," ::Odin remarked thoughtfully. Although his eyes were trained on her hand, only part of his attention was there; the rest was elsewhere, as it had been since that telephone call. But concentrating on the physical, on the matter at hand, if he reached out a finger to touch her, she would solidify. But that also wasn't helpful in the long term.:: "As for the rest of it, you don't want me expounding on any concepts of cosmic balance or destiny. I have an offer on the table; it's not particularly palatable, but it's what I can do right now, because when I say that this is complex, I mean to say that this isn't like your other problem."

[Typhoid]

She wasn't up for a philosophical discussion either, not with a decision in front of her like this. And he was right, it really boiled down to survival. "I've been talking to the Professor too much about things like this," she said, shaking her head, her tone turning wry."I'd ask 'complex how?', but the more important question would be: if I let you do this, are you going to be alive later to undo it?"

[Odin]

"I'd certainly hope so," ::Odin remarked seriously. To think that he'd survived torture at the hands of Laudine Piercefield to die back home in Chicago on personal leave...that was the end of a Vonnegut tale, and he had decided long ago that his life wasn't Vonnegut, for better or for worse. No, he planned to return from this, however it played out.:: "I'm not rushing off to die."

[Typhoid]

It was only slightly comforting; she knew that accidents happened every day of the week: car wrecks, accidental falls. "I wouldn't think you would be." She had no way to guarantee his safety, but she was between two very hard choices. And when it came down to things, she'd rather be alive and powerless then dead for the sake of a 'what if.'

The next weeks were going to be very hard, she admitted inwardly. "It looks like I'm out of options."

[Odin]

"For now," ::Odin agreed somberly. He made no attempt at anything, because that was resignation, not consent, and this was not something he wanted to do without willingness. Not that he *wanted* to do it at all; if he reacted the way he had the last time this had been implemented...well, his thoughts would forgive him:: "Do you have someone home now that you can go to later?"

[Typhoid]

"Yes." The Professor was here, and so was Pietro, at least at the moment.

[Odin]

"Good," ::Odin remarked, because he wouldn't want her to be alone in the aftermath of this. His hands remained in his pockets; he made no attempt at anything. Calmly, gently, he said,:: "Tell me when."

[Typhoid]

The voice in the back of her mind screamed that she couldn't do this at all, but the rest of her was more rational. It was either this, or possibly dying, losing cohesion and never coming back. She could feel tears pricking the back of her eyes, but didn't let them show at all. "Just do it."

[Odin]

::Tears were an aspect of human emotion and interaction with which Odin had never been comfortable. Not that he didn't understand their role, but he wasn't comfortable regardless; he rarely had anything to say when confronted with them. Added to that he was hardly in the best of mental spaces himself, and that this was a poor experience ahead of them...to think that this morning he hadn't thought his day could get *worse.*

He removed one hand from his pocket and held it out to her.:: "Give me your hand. Trust me; you'll want it when this is over."

[Typhoid]

"Glove on or off?" she asked, her voice devoid of any emotion. She didn't know if it made a difference or not.